I walk in order to find my footing literarily. Usually it’s in the woods behind my house, but just this past week it was along the ocean. The only requirements are that I have to be alone, and it helps if I spend at least some portion of the walk talking to myself (much easier to do in this time of ubiquitous Bluetooth, where everyone seems to be in public conversation with demons). Talking to myself unlocks my “thinking mind” and helps me move to a place of “body mind.” It is this shift into the physical mind that offers me the clarity to work through an idea. Sometimes the walking and talking serves simply as a form of oral diary, a way to cleanse my mind of noise and create room for insight. But I also talk to work out issues with a story, theory, or structure. I hash it out like I’m in a writer’s room, but I’m just talking to myself. Once I get back home, I am often much clearer with my intentions on the page. And while deep insight doesn’t come after every walk, it is the practice of walking that opens the door for that one time per week, or month, where something important unlocks. I do not write every day, but I do walk every day. I believe it is the practice of patience and of accessing this “body mind” that helps me most, rather than the practice of writing itself. I consider walking to be writing, even if no writing occurs.
—Makenna Goodman, author of Helen of Nowhere (Coffee House Press, 2025)
Photo credit: Sam Kelman