Most summers, my family and I retreat to New England for much of July. From a professional perspective, I see this as an exercise in seasonality (to use a term from my book Slow Productivity), a way to recharge and recenter the creative efforts that sustain my work. This year, I needed all the help I could get. I had recently finished part one of my new book on the deep life and was struggling to find the right way to introduce the second.
During my first couple of days up north, I made rapid progress on the new chapter. But I soon began to notice some grit in the gears of my conceptual narrative. As I pushed forward in my writing, the gnashing and grinding became louder and more worrisome. Eventually, I had to admit that my approach wasn’t working. I threw out a couple thousand words, and went searching for a better idea.
It was at this point that we fortuitously decided to take a hike. We headed to Franconia Notch in the White Mountains, which we’ve always enjoyed for its unruly, romantic grandeur. We had decided to tackle the trek up to Lonesome Lake, a serene body of water nestled at 2,700 feet amid the peaks and ridges of Cannon Mountain.
The Lonesome Lake hike begins with a mile of steady elevation gain. At first, you’re accompanied by the sounds of traffic from I-93 below; your legs burning, mind still mulling the mundane. But eventually the trail turns, and the road noise dissipates. After a while, your attention has no choice but to narrow. Time expands. You almost don’t notice when the trail begins to flatten. Then, picking your way through spindly birches, you emerge onto the lake’s quiet, wind-rippled serenity.
It was at Lonesome Lake that my difficulties with my new chapter began to dissipate. With an unhurried clarity, I saw a better way to make my argument. I scribbled some notes down in the pocket-sized notebook I always carry. As we finally, reluctantly, made our way back down the mountain, I continued to refine my thinking.
Walking and thinking have been deeply intertwined since the dawn of serious thought. Aristotle so embraced mobile cognition—he wore out the covered walkways of his outdoor academy, the Lyceum—that his followers became known as the Peripatetic School, from the Greek peripatein, meaning ‘to walk around’.
My recent experience in the White Mountains was a minor reminder of this major truth. In an age where AI threatens to automate ever-wider swaths of human thought, it seems particularly important to remember both the hard-won dignity of producing new ideas de novo within the human brain, and the simple actions, like putting the body in motion, that help this miraculous process unfold.
I am always very happy to receive and to read your newsletters.
I first heard you on Tim Ferriss Podcast. It was a very good reminder that reasoning and normal common sense still exists.
I always was interested in learning how stuff works and you inspire me in the academic way, of which I almost forgot.
Keep up your good work! (as they write at WordPress when I answer and publish a Daily Prompt).
Thank you!
In addition to Aristotle, add Einstein’s bicycle riding. Bi-pedal motion is good for the brain’s processing (and even a part of trauma treatment).
Love Vermont! We go there for family vacations a lot. Beats sweating it out in Oklahoma. We’ll actually be there in a few weeks. I’ve hashed out a lot writing while hiking Hunger Mountain or Camel’s Hump or eating maple creme at a snack shack.
I’d love to watch an interview with Kyle Finn Dempsey about his deep life living in New England. His YouTube channel (https://www.youtube.com/@TroutandCoffee) is the proof.
I’d like to see that happen as well.
This is so inspiring, Cal, and a good reminder that our brains need motion to push through the blocks. Foot friction connects to our mind as much as it does to the ground. Hmm, I think I may just go for a walk. Thanks, Cal. 🙂
Thank you for sharing this reflection. Deeply meaningful.
Check for ticks on everyone!
Made me think of a word I learned from the writer Pete Hammill— flâneur.
“If it’s a beautiful day, I love taking walks. The walks are always aimless. From where I live, I like walking to the Battery, where so many people, including my own parents, came through that harbor and passed into Ellis Island and became Americans. You can just sit on a bench and look at the harbor, or look at the people. Like being a flâneur. You can just wander around and let the city dictate the script.”
I’ve enjoyed many more moments and come up with some wonderful things because of those thoughts.
The Peripatetic School! I love it. I seem to remember reading (possibly in a Cal Newport book) that Steve Jobs would conduct many meetings on foot.
Even better than walking and thinking, in my experience, is running and thinking (as long as you run with the mouth closed). Here’s my Writer’s Workout Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0NNbrBbQ200
+1 for a whole book from you about thinking
Walking is a great way to purposefully think through something (Cal calls it “productive meditation”), or to just let your mind wander in a daydream state. Not to mention its physical health benefits. I log my workouts, and I never log my walks as “workouts” on par with my more intense training at the gym, but the calorie burn and other physical benefits are definitely accretive. Still, the mental and emotional benefits are most important – head-clearing solitude is otherwise in short supply these days!
I experienced something similar last year in August while hiking in the Alps. My body hurt, but my mind was clearer than ever before. The surrounding nature, with its unique blend of smell and sound, was breathtaking.
This reminds me of what one of my friends said the other day – “motion is lotion”. They meant it in the context of managing a physical injury (we play volleyball). They said using the body part a little bit can help loosen it, exercise it, and reintroduce it to what you’re looking to do.
I think this statement also holds true when we are mentally stuck. Once we get moving, the brain loosens up too.
Glad you had a good hike, and hope the quality time with family is great!