Looking for meaningful conversation? Take a loved one on a walk, surrounded by nature
I went on a walk to Monterey, California, last week with friends while our spouses took in a racetrack event during Car Week. We left Pacific Grove and followed the bike path to the bustling miasma that is Cannery Row and Fisherman’s Wharf. A background of sea lions barked, barrel-rolled and sunned themselves on rocks poking out of the chilly water as we talked, took pictures, ate lunch and walked back. It was completely lovely and has become a tradition.
When I was a kid in Tulsa, Dad took his daughters on after-dinner walks near a neighborhood called Reservoir Hill. Houses that I remember as stucco or brick clung to the hillside as the streets curved up and up, turning into a road split with a median full of generous blackberry bushes.
He was a curious adult, and not shy about tapping on the door of an apparently abandoned house, testing the lock if no one answered. Sometimes we walked across the grassy hill to the top and rolled down, like you see in any old family’s home movies. Throughout our lives, we’ve reminisced how Dad loved our walks.
I’m sure we asked a million questions. There were a lot of us and only one of him, but he always answered as he continued to walk, gently, not fast. We went to Maine one year and stayed in a tiny village and walked in the woods. I was tired and wanted to go back, and he said, “OK. I’m just going to walk a little farther, because I don’t know if I’ll ever be back here, and want to see what’s down the road.”
I turned around and continued walking, maybe an early case of fear of missing out (FOMO)?
At home, we walked to school, to church, to the shopping center, to the bus stop, even to some of our jobs as we got older. When I got to college, I couldn’t believe the huge University of Oklahoma campus was laid out for pedestrian access. Everything was within walking distance, even a pub for Friday happy hours.
Driving often replaces walking for those who don’t live in New York or another walkable city. For those walking together, it’s the same general setup: Both people face the same direction, though at least one person should pay attention to the road. I like the certain side-by-side car conversation, say, on a road trip in close quarters, but walking and talking is still always preferable.
When seated at a table or in facing chairs, we consider factors such as eye contact or other distractions affecting the narrative. To simply walk alongside another person and converse is more interesting and engaging. My husband and I engage in discussions with our kids on a walk, often to address serious issues they may be struggling over. It keeps things moving forward, provides roominess, and feels less confining.
When I am walking alongside, I try to listen precisely. My recall of it later seems better. Some memorable conversations I’ve had with my spouse on walks over the past 45 years have been about life’s decisions, like buying a house or having kids. Maybe it lowers anxiety to face straight ahead in cases like that.
Our kids inherited Dad’s love of walks. In their respective cities, they’ve discovered neighborhood and urban hikes. Los Angeles has miles of wild-ish paths, despite its car culture. In New Orleans, the walks are epic, as are the gardenias along the way.
There’s something about a walk. It’s good for conversation, and sometimes includes coming across a little place to rest and look around.
Reach Ellen at murphysister04@gmail.com
