FOR WHAT IT’S WORTH

AMBLIN’ MAN

By Gian Marcon

“Everywhere is walking distance if you have the time.” STEVEN WRIGHT

While walking a picket line in Simcoe Muskoka, I was struck by the scene of a large group of people walking single file up and down a narrow, snowy incline. As the line formed and began to move rhythmically, the image it evoked for me was of the old photographs of prospectors traversing the Chilkoot Pass, as seen in the books of Pierre Berton and Robert Kroestch.

Fortunately, we were in Barrie rather than Yukon, and it was a relatively mild day. Even more fortunately, the single line that had evoked such a sense of trudging drudgery soon morphed into something quite different. Before long, the picketers had organically doubledand tripled-up to facilitate conversations that enlivened and elevated the day’s vibe. Also, a few inspired individuals began blasting music from their backpack stereo systems, which spontaneously led to impromptu conga lines swaying to Harry Belafonte’s Jump in the Line, Arrow’s Hot, Hot, Hot and Little Eva’s Locomotion. Still others clustered and altered their pace so that intervals formed in the line.

At some point during the picket shift, I became conscious of the fact that I was making these observations and that there might be way to connect them. As I am wont to do, I began reflecting

on the places to which a person’s mind travels while walking.

I have always been a walker. From an early age, I loved to walk in groups, with friends, with adults. I especially enjoyed walking by myself. I walked to and from school. I walked to the rink, to the basketball court, to the tennis courts, to church. I walked through the woods, especially on the numerous trails in Toronto’s Downsview Dells and High Park. As a 12-year-old, my best friend Ed and I followed Black Creek to its source at the Humber River. In the summer of 1974, I walked to my first job as a caddy at Oakdale Golf and Country Club, where I walked all day. I was not riding my bike, I was walking somewhere. I walked a lot.

In high school, I walked to school regardless of the weather. Long before I appreciated the therapeutic benefits of a restorative walk, I craved long walks for their propensity to provide a fertile setting that let my mind wander and contemplate. When, as an adult, I took to urban hiking and section hiking the Trans Canada and Bruce Trails, I was composing theories and making connections about life, love, sports, books, and music. In time, I started a soul-restoring Good Friday tradition of a quiet, pre-dawn walk in the woods. These days I have added two dogs – Lou and Jazz – to my walking regimen.

There have been numerous occasions where the general ideas and specific topics for my written musings have emerged and been developed during protracted walks. This phenomena is in no way particular to my experience, as writers over the years have articulated. Henry David Thoreau acknowledged the incubating capacity associated with a brisk walk when he wrote, “Methinks that the moment my legs begin to move, my thoughts begin to flow.”

our feet blends with our mood and the rhythm of our interior monologue. Moreover, it is precisely because we do not have to devote much conscious effort to the act of walking that our attention is free to wander and explore. In essence, it is the simplicity of the walking motion, and its rhythmic cadence, that liberates our minds and allows us to more readily approach a meditative state.

Where we choose to walk is significant. Spending time in natural spaces – trails, fields, woods – can awaken the creative mind that constructed environments sometimes stifle. On the other hand, a walk through a city provides more immediate stimulation that, due to a sense of heightened awareness and required vigilance, tends to intensify sensory experiences. Despite the different dynamics at play, the walks that occur in either urban or rural environments allow the walker to escape to a state of mind and experience that is more reflective, more able to make connections and process experiences.

Finally, while most walks have a practical purpose – to get somewhere, or to get in 10,000 steps – it is the walks that are without purpose or motive that are most beneficial to our mental state. Instead of justifying why I should walk, I engage the walk by trying to clear my mind and be open to what presents itself along the way. Of course, I still get my steps in, but I also exercise my mind; the resultant synthesis between mind, body, and soul that often occurs is awesome. In the film “Field of Dreams,” Ray Kinsella quotes his favourite author, Terrence Mann: “There comes a time when all the cosmic tumblers have clicked into place — and the universe opens itself up for a few seconds to show you what’s possible.”

While mindful, contemplative walking does not always result in monumental revelations, it does, in my experience, provide fertile soil for connections to be made and insights to be achieved.