When I was a kid, field work meant “walking the beans” under an unforgiving sun to pluck errant corn stalks, which sprouted from leftover corn seed into the current year’s bean crop. Sigh. I hated that job.
Mind and feet.
But now, field work simply means thinking and walking. It means losing myself while walking and immersing my mind and feet in nature so deeply that thoughts percolate to the surface unbidden. Why the change? As a writer, I find that walking helps with my writing. And it’s not just me; it’s a well-known remedy for writer’s block.
Walking increases blood flow to the brain, helping you enter a flow state or heightened mental clarity. It also leads to new connections between brain cells. But don’t ask me to list my sources, since this is a newsletter, and not a book report!
For years, after I began my writing odyssey, creativity followed me, no matter where or when I walked. Walking has been my primary form of exercise since I took my first beach walk as a kid, when endorphins soaked my brain, gathered from the combination of seashell treasure, sun, fun, and barefoot exercise. To this day, my longest walks navigated the mangroves behind Lover’s Key State Park, where I could walk alone with just the Gumbo Limbo trees and my book bag for company. One time, while reading on a bench mere inches from the water, I heard a snuffling and looked up in time to see a stray dolphin arc before me, so close I could have touched it. But I lost this joy when my feet became afflicted with hallux rigidus arthritis.
Walking became about pain management, and creative thoughts withered.
This month, I had surgery to fix my right foot, with screws, a surgeon, and a prayer. Next up will be my left. It hurts like hell. I feel antsy. I have plenty of time to write, but I want to walk. Wish me luck!
“Goals transform a random walk into a chase.” ~ Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi
