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Thinking4 min read

Walk the problem

When a piece of work stalls, the answer is almost never on the screen you are staring at.

Portrait of Mara Ellison

Mara Ellison

Writer and editor

A lone figure walking down a foggy path lined with bare trees

Somewhere in the third hour of staring at a stuck paragraph, the honest thing to admit is that no further staring will help. The sentence is not going to resolve itself under pressure. It needs a different kind of attention, and that kind is not available at a desk.

So I go out. No podcast, no phone call, no destination. Forty minutes, usually the same route, so there are no decisions to make about where to turn.

Why it works

Walking gives you two things at once: a body doing something rhythmic and undemanding, and a mind with nowhere to put its effort. That combination is where loose connections get made. Not because walking is mystical, but because you have stopped forcing the problem down one narrow path.

The solution usually arrives about two thirds of the way round, and almost never to the question I set out with. It answers a better question, one I had not articulated.

Being stuck is often a sign that you are answering the wrong question very well.

Rules that keep it useful

  • Take the same route. Novelty uses the attention you are trying to free up.
  • Leave the headphones. A podcast fills exactly the space you need empty.
  • Carry something to write with. Ideas from a walk are perishable, and you will not remember the good one by the time you get back.
  • Do not decide in advance what you will think about. That is just working, standing up.

The part nobody mentions

You have to actually stop. Half-walking, with the problem still gripped tightly and the phone in your hand in case something arrives, gives you the tiredness of a walk and none of the benefit.

Close the laptop properly. The paragraph will still be there, and by then you will know what it wanted to say.