How to Take a Walk

Tangent, on "having a life".

I met a woman from New York who was visiting SF. We both had been to Burning Man. She expressed her distaste at how much time San Franciscans spend on their art projects. According to her, New Yorkers "have a life".

So, that bar conversation ended pretty quickly. But later on I got to thinking about it. There might be positive senses of "having a life", but I think she meant it in the more common way -- a horror of getting too enthusiastic about anything.

Oh yeah, we could plant a rose garden in our backyard, but you know, we have lives.

It makes me feel tired just contemplating it.

There can be something akin to meditation in walking, or "taking a walk". An approach I've taken in the past is attempt to hear all the sounds. Not to listen to, just hear. Wherever you are, there are likely enough sounds for this. If you catch yourself focusing on one sound, gently let it go back to the level of the rest. If you find yourself not hearing sounds, gently let yourself hear them again.

I believe this is quite similar to bringing your mind back to the breath in sitting meditation in Vipassana and similar practices, though others may correct me. The difference here is that it's perhaps somehow more obvious when your mind has strayed from its object. In fact, there are forms of walking meditation in Vipassana and other practices. These focus -- again, I believe -- much more on the walking: the walking and its sensations are the object. Generally you would walk up and down a short stretch; this avoid the worry of a route, or how to return to the starting point.

I don't take walks. It's not because I'm afraid of how I will be perceived - that's crazy, how could everyone else know? Why would they care?

I just have a lot to do, and when I do have downtime, I prefer to spend it on sites like Hacker News. That's all.

One of the biggest things I missed when I loved form NYC to the Phoenix area was the option to walk places.

In New York I would take the A train from Washington Heights to Columbus Circle, and either walk up to the Metropolitan Museum, or down to the Village. It was endlessly entertaining, with sights and sounds to fill the mind.

What a joy.

Yes, and that's why it's dumb to call articles about exercise and nutrition "hacks". When all of human endeavor falls under the rubric of the "hack" the word ceases to mean anything.

Hack your commute, take public transit! Hack your next dinner party with parlour games. Delightfully clever key hack keeps all your keys on the same ring. Hack Mexican food with a "burrito" sized tortilla! Hack your brain with REM sleep. Hack the sun with a straw hat. Hack hygiene with silver oxide "deodorant". Hack girls with compliments. Hack your windowsill with a pot of wheatgrass, and hack the sky with the goddamn moon.

It's stupid. Take a walk.