Get Out of Your Head and Into Your Feet

By Kim Cottrell

She stepped out her door for what she hoped would be an invigorating walk through her neighborhood, up and around the shoulder of the extinct volcano known as Mt. Tabor in Northeast Portland, OR, and back home again. All told, she hoped to cover five miles that day, nothing strenuous, just enough to clear her head, if she was lucky.

Lately, she’d been over-thinking everything and she knew she was stressed at work, tired from not enough sleep, and depressed because things felt pretty tough right now. It was hard to turn off the over-thinking, but she knew she needed to find a way. Her friends with dogs told her that walking their dogs helped them relax and forget their worries. They said that watching the dog’s movements and behaviors felt like a meditation of sorts and on a long walk it completely dissolved their worries. She didn’t have a dog, so that was a great idea she couldn’t use.

She remembered taking a class about directing one’s attention to undo old habits and she decided to give it a try. In fact, the class was all about learning to feel the skeleton, primarily the central line of the spine and each of the four limbs, with an amazing clarity. The lesson was called Five Lines, because the spine and four limbs made up the five lines. Of course, any child could tell you the line figure with a circle on the top was human.

It seemed like too much to expect that she could track all this noticing at once, so she started her walk by focusing on the thoughts in her head, as though she was watching a video. She watched the video run and slowly shook her head at the sheer number of things she worried about. Gradually, the video slowed and stopped and she looked up and noted that she was near the uphill part of the walk. Adjusting her posture, she shifted her breathing, and timed her breath with her steps. She could feel that her body was warmed up and she walked faster, leaning into the hill, shortening her stride, and letting the rhythm take her forward.

When she was comfortable, even more comfortable than ever before, she wondered idly why that might be, but she knew if she stayed focused on the way she used her hips, knees, and feet as she took each step that she would find it easier to keep going as fast as she was moving. She loved the long back stretch of Mt. Tabor, where the road winds up around the hill, offering peek-a-boo views into the neighborhoods below and Mt. Hood off in the distance.

Every once in a while, one of the thoughts she had seen during her video-tour earlier in her walk popped into her attention and then popped out again. The thought-popcorn came and went, but as she gained familiarity with paying attention to her gait, it was easier to let the thoughts go and not grab them with the tentacles of her mind. Normally, she held her thoughts tightly, worrying over them and gnawing them like a dog with its bone, over and over, chewing and licking. She knew she had plenty of time to ruminate later and she savored this new feeling of striding freely and competently up the hill, silence as her companion.

She reached the top of the hill and decided that she loved this way of walking, free of her thoughts and the world’s problems. She knew she deserved this kind of silent walk at least once a week, though she often walked with a friend. She and the friend chatted non-stop about family and work, almost as if they could solve the world and family problems if they discussed them thoroughly enough. But, she could tell this video-free walk was something special and she savored the feeling a few minutes longer. Maybe her friend would be willing to take 15 minutes on one of their walks to practice the silence and notice and attend to the movement. Maybe they could find the Five Lines together, and bring a different quality to their walk.

Kim Cottrell, walker, movement teacher, and communication specialist, enjoys walking with or without her dogs and practicing the ideas in this article. Cottrell is authoring a walking guide for women. You can reach her at www.kimcottrell.com.