Slow Down Your Modern Life: Stand up, put on your shoes, open the door, and go for a walk
“There are some good things to be said about walking. Not many, but some. Walking takes longer, for example, than any other known form of locomotion except crawling. Thus it stretches time and prolongs life. Life is already too short to waste on speed. I have a friend who’s always in a hurry; he never gets anywhere. Walking makes the world much bigger and thus more interesting. You have time to observe the details.” — Edward Abbey
Listen to the man…
Edward Abbey was an extraordinary writer, environmentalist, and human. He is best known for his nonfiction work Desert Solitaire, an autobiographical account of his time as a ranger in Arches National Park. It was written before the modernization of park systems for mass, motorized use. Abbey was a pioneer of the environmental justice movement and his novel The Monkey Wrench Gang spurred a new generation of environmentalists into action for the defense of our wilderness.
Abbey is sometimes considered a controversial figure in American Writing. But it’s hard to deny his influence. His opinions were strong but justified. We should .
Believe in the power of walking
I’ll make you a promise. If you build a habit of daily walking you will improve your physical, mental, and spiritual health when you carry your body’s weight. It’s been scientifically proven.
With every step, and with every year that passes, basic movement takes more and more effort. But the measurable health benefits of even a short, slow walking session are undeniable. Your rapidly deteriorating body deserves the pleasure of movement as often as possible while you’re here on this Earth.
Muscles, joints, heart, bones, and lungs all rejoice when your feet touch the ground. And although convincing the mind to enjoy extra movement may take finessing, over time it becomes impossible to deny that walking improves your quality of life.
Take it from a dedicated walker.
The furthest I’ve ever walked in a single day was 37 miles. I’ve done it twice.
Now, I’m not saying this is something to aspire to. In fact, I’d recommend against walking so far all at once. For most people this is a recipe for disaster, but if you’ll bear with me there is a bigger point to be made.
A few years ago, on a spring day in Minneapolis, my brother flew in from Florida to visit. For no particular reason we decided to walk around the city for the entire day. At 7am we started by walking to get breakfast, then back to the house to pick up my dog. We started by walking west through uptown toward the chain of lakes where we watched people kayaking on Lake of the Isles. Next, I made him walk past Walker Art Museum, the art park, and then to Kirby Puckett’s statue at Target field.
We stopped to drink craft beers here and there and walked over as many bridges crossing the Mississippi as we could find. At the stone arch bridge we stopped to admire the city and the water and talk about our lives. Eventually, 37 miles later, we limped up the steps to my house with Thai Curry and swollen feet. We watched a movie and drank whisky that night and rested our weary bones. It was a good day.
The only other time I’ve walked so far was definitely NOT on purpose
That day’s only distance match came on a hike to the Paintbrush Divide in Grand Teton National Park, also with my brother. We drove all through the night to arrive at a rest stop on the Eastern side of Grand Teton National Park where we caught a few hours of sleep before the sun came up. The sunrise that morning crept through the clouds like a slowly opening eye and turned the sky purple and red. The mountain’s behind us glowed bright pink while we ate breakfast. After a brief stop to buy a map, we started hiking.
Before we reached the divide we discovered that someone had walked off the trail nearby. The hikers we talked to were worried and sure that the young woman was not okay. Concerned frowns marked their faces. A snow storm was approaching.
We found her jacket and belongings scattered on the side of the trail and a scribbled note with an address where to send her pack.
Our alarm bells went off.
We had already decided to avoid the storm and hike out early, But aware of the danger, we kept climbing, searching for any trace of her. The elevation and extra mileage was taxing.
But this doesn’t end up being one of those stories where the author becomes a hero. We pressed ourselves beyond our physical limits and paid a physical price, but we never found her. The heroes are the hikers that we had met who brought in Park Rangers more familiar with the terrain to find her and help her off the trail. NPS Rangers are exceptional human beings.
We came to find out that she had taken LSD and was preparing to skinny dip in one of the mountain lakes. Miles away from help, up in the mountains with no shelter or food or jacket and temperatures dropping, we never found out if she was trying to kill herself. Maybe she just didn’t understand the consequences of what she was doing?
Regardless, we passed the formerly lost hiker and the park rangers as we made our way down the trail. She looked shaken, wrapped in a blanket and smoking a cigarette, but all seemed well enough.
A forest, when it’s quiet, is a healing place. She was in good hands so we nodded and kept on our way.
The last few miles down that trail, as is often the case, were abject torture. We had just tacked an extra 10+ miles of rugged hiking onto our planned day and our legs were turned to jello. On top of that, the storm moved in on us and the temperature plummeted. I got back to the car first and started the engine. Our last few miles had been through nasty cold wind so I cranked up the heat.
Immediate shouting. The headlights had come on and 20 feet in front was my haggard brother, limping. The high beams scorched his eyeballs. He howled like Frankenstein’s monster, using trekking poles like crutches. Later, I bought us burgers and beers and apologized to my newly half-blind brother a lot. We were exhausted and grumpy, but we slept like logs.
Recounting the story of that day always makes us smile
That memory is ours… forever. Life slowed down. Our brains opened to a flood of sensory input.
Some days echo with such ferocity that savoring details isn’t a choice. It just happens.
I remember these days of walking better than many of the times I’ve rushed through my life wishing for a day or an hour to be over.
How many times have I lost my temper on the highway driving 5 miles per hour slower than I want to be driving?
Some days, do I even care about where I am in the present while I rush from one place to the next? How many important things have I missed in meetings that I was over eager to end so my workday could finally be over?
How much have I missed in conversations with loved ones? How many details have I ignored while impatiently waiting for my turn to speak?
How much love and patience and beauty have I denied myself because I couldn’t slow the hell down?
Walks in the early morning are a bell of mindfulness
5am is a time of day that your brain and body will do anything to avoid. But generally time moves slower in the early morning no matter where you are.
It takes serious willpower to wake up early, put shoes on, and leave a comfortable home. And that’s why people don’t do it. That’s why it’s so quiet at 5 am, because it’s a time of day not governed by human influence. Birds and trees and roads and the wind (and if you’re really lucky, a roaming cat or an owl up past its bedtime)… these are the champions of the early morning.
Our Midwestern spring sunrises have been a symphony of birdsong lately. This neighborhood has an abundance of very tall, very old trees and migrating birds fill them up with their nests. They come and they go, often invisible. But if you actually slow down and pay attention they provide the neighborhood with its unique soundtrack.
Starting morning walks
If you decide to begin this habit, first you need to get past the feeling of obligation. Sleep is wonderful, I will admit. Breaking from its grasp is a Herculean task some days.
But the benefits will outweigh the pain of rising early if you do it with consistency. Keep the benefits at the front of your mind.
Here are some tips for getting started:
- Set your alarm 30 minutes earlier than you normally do and actually GET UP. Even if you don’t walk, get out of bed. Make the commitment. Stand up and wander around doing nothing or muttering swear words, if you must. No matter what, just get out of bed.
- Choose a sound for your alarm that you won’t dread. I made this mistake once and every morning until I fixed it started off with, “Fuck, WHY?!?” Shocking your brain with fight-or-flight chemicals trains your mind to dread waking up. I prefer the sound of wind chimes. It caresses my brain into consciousness with a sound I love. Then, peeling back the covers doesn’t hurt so much.
- Destroy your snooze button. It is NOT your friend. Period. Enough said.
- Say NO to your screen. The blasted devices can wait. You sacrificed an extra 30 minutes of precious dreams for a specific reason. Don’t give it away to the first shiny thing you see.
- Find comfortable shoes and weather appropriate clothes. Make sure you like the way you look in these because when you like the way you look you’ll like the way you feel. Set them out and make sure they’re in a place where you cannot avoid them.
- Start small. If at first you make it no further than the front porch, call it a win. Tomorrow, aim for the mailbox. The next day the road. By the end of the week you’ll be at the end of the block. If you keep growing this way you’ll be at a daily mile before you know what happened.
- Learn to look beyond your discomfort. Check in with yourself at the end of each walk, but don’t be surprised if you don’t always feel like a picture of perfect health. Some days you’ll just feel like stewed garbage no matter what you do. Give yourself space to feel this way and know that this condition is NOT permanent.
Walking gives us a chance to assess our existence
If you get my blood flowing you can check in with my physical self. Am you sluggish or peppy? Are your joints limber? How is your eyesight? Your hearing? Is there pain in your feet? How is your balance? Can you take a deep breath without feeling any severe pain?
But also, how does this life feel in this moment, right now? Are you at peace with yourself? What has been bothering you? Is it something you can control? What are some things you can do to tune in to your priorities?
Obviously, I can’t speak for everyone. But so many of us spend our time languishing in fear, self-doubt, and aimlessness. Even with a regular habit of walking I struggle through bouts of loneliness and depression. I question my decisions. I overanalyze the past and I fret about the future. Sometimes these feelings are unavoidable and it can be toxic to ignore them for the sake of eternal positivity.
That’s why it’s so important to have a few moments all to yourself
Ritualistically walking the same route every morning may sound like a drag, but I assure it is not. You will build relationships with the world in ways you didn’t realize. I’m currently in a long term relationship with several houses, a few cars, a handful of lawns, and most of the trees that line the streets around our house. And the birds. Never neglect the birds.
Sure, I could recall many more meandering walks through the woods both by myself and with friends. But if I started doing that I may never stop. And that’s not what this is about. This walking propaganda piece is bordering on too long as it is.
But I will say this.
The most valuable times in your life will imprint themselves on you with more depth and detail than anything you’ll ever find on a cell phone. (Yes, I realize that you’re likely reading this on one… but still.)
So instead, let’s go for a walk together! We can talk about our passions. We can consider the smallness of our lives compared to the size of the universe. When we’re sick or lonely, or whenever imposter syndrome creeps into our minds we can disappear into these memories.
Walking slows down time. Give yourself this time to observe all the details.
So slip on your shoes, walk out your door, and teach yourself to slow down.
Hours fly by. There is no stopping them.
It’s in your best interest to savor them.
