​Dogs aren't the only ones that need to go on daily walks. As human beings in 2018, we tend to do a lot of sitting at desks and on couches and in cars and aren't getting up and about as much as our ancestors. Besides being touted as just as bad for your health as smoking, sitting can have a detrimental effect on our imaginations.

In a world where we can easily slip into the habit of hunkering down further into our smartphones while sitting indoors, what better way to spark the imagination and feed your senses than to get up and get moving?

I first read about the concept of daily artist walks back in 2008 in Julia Cameron's creative bible The Artist's Way Since then, I've lived and worked in so many different places and love seeing the different ways that walking looks for me over the years: the long straight country road where my family farm is, just before sunset; the city streets of Boston and Cambridge during rush hour; the small side streets in Virginia when I would walk on lunch break from my job at the lumber company. Not to mention all the walks I've done in places I've traveled; Ireland, Prince Edward Island, California, Washington, D.C., Maine, New York City, Chicago...the list goes on and gets added to all the time. 

For me, walking is a practical way of stretching my legs after typing at my computer for too long and at the same time, a spiritual reset button. When I was struggling with writing my first play, I walked circles around Jamaica Pond, feeling the frustration and writer's block recede into the background with every step I took on the dusty path that encircles the water. I thought of the title for another play I co-wrote while walking the 15 minutes to the subway station.  I often memorize a new monologue as I walk around my neighborhood and was so tickled to find out that movement has been shown to help with memorization. There's just something about getting into a rhythm where your feet seem to carry you along into a moving meditation that is just what you didn't know you needed. 

Whether you have a mountain to hike or simply a stroll on the little street you live on, do yourself a favor and take a walk. 20 minutes is what Julia Cameron suggests, but anything is better than nothing. When I was out of work on disability for debilitating back pain in 2009 and 2010, I went for five minute walks through the parking lot of our apartment complex. Though it wasn't far and it wasn't glamorous, getting outside and seeing dogs out for their walks, cats in the window, and hearing the birds chirping made me hopeful that whatever blocks exist in your mind, life is flowing freely outdoors. 

So the next time a crisis of creativity strikes, resist the urge to muscle through. Instead, try putting on our walking shoes (or go barefoot if that's more your style) and take a walk. I can't promise that your problems will be magically solved or that you will return to your desk to write the Great American novel, but I am confident that you will come back with a refreshed perspective.

Take it easy and have a playful week!

Seeing Moulin Rouge the musical at the Emerson Colonial Theatre last night in this gorgeous space took my breath away.

It's surreal to have first seen the movie (...7 times!) when I was 17 years old. I was a high school senior who had never really had a boyfriend before, who was convinced that this fact made her less than everyone else around her, and had not yet discovered the magic of her own ambitions, gifts, and heart. Watching Nicole Kidman onscreen, I told myself that beauty only came in the form of long, sleek straight hair, a beautiful singing voice, and heels. It was difficult to recognize myself in any of the outer beauty I saw onscreen. At times as a teenager, I glimpsed that I might have something deep down in myself that might qualify as beautiful, but it felt faded and far away.

Fast forward. Last night, I watched this feast for the senses as a 35 year old woman sitting next to her out-of-this-world partner of 15 years. I watched it as someone who still is working on digging deeper into who she is, and at the same time, realized how much she's allowed herself to get comfortable in her own skin. I watched it as someone who now has 17 years of performing onstage imprinted on my self, something that never fails to illuminate the beauty in me---the kind of beauty that can never fade with time or being improved by Botox. Watching the incredible actress who played Satine perform onstage, I still admired her beautiful long, sleek, straight hair, but didn't find myself longing to look like her at all. In fact, I walked out into the summer night when the show was over feeling so grateful for my own curls and my own stories and my own schemes to create as much as I can in this world, that I know now that I most definitely belong in.

In Moulin Rouge, the Children of the Revolution stand for freedom, beauty, truth, and love. What if the real revolutionary act is to see and honor these things that exist in YOU, right now? What if we dared to do that? Believe me, I get it--if you have also come from a family culture where acknowledging others' beauty is encouraged, but acknowledging your own beauty is not considered "polite" or "humble", this takes a boatload of time to wrestle with. In fact, typing out this whole post makes me feel like I just broke from the rules I was raised with and the feelings that come with that are uncomfortable, to say the least. Still, any progress worth seeking out requires that we rebel a bit, no?

Epilogue: Going to this show was a good reminder that in a world that can't stop talking and arguing and telling everyone else that they are WRONG, it's a welcome change to sit in a theatre with 1700 other people as they all hold their voices and their breath to witness a human being onstage in front of them sing Elton John's Our Song or watch a stage full of dancers move to Bad Romance. The stillness struck me through to my soul and at during other moments, the audience's cheering and shouting and dancing along rocked my soul. I couldn't help but look around at the audience throughout the show, just taking in the makeshift community we made in the Colonial that night. Maybe that's what life should be--the courage to connect and be generous with how we respond to who and what are in front of us, and also getting good at sitting still and listening to what's happening right now. ​

Hi Folks! Episode #8 of the Perpetual Visitor Podcast is now ready for your listening ears.  

Have you been told you're "too sensitive"?

Do people often tell you to "get over it" or develop some "thick skin"?

Do you laugh/cry/feel emotions at the drop of a hat (or the sound of a Sarah McLaughlin song)?

What if we've been lied to all along and being vulnerable is not a weakness to be fixed, but a superpower that can save the world and allow us to see everything in emotional technicolor? What would that mean for our lives and ability to rock the world with wonder and creativity and beauty and CHANGE?

My newest podcast episode is a must listen to for anyone who has been put down for your empathy and emotions and who needs a reminder that your own vulnerability might just mean that you are the superhero you have been waiting for.

You get ONE life and ONE you: to feel, to wonder, to create, to make the world a better place. There's not a moment to waste.
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Hop on over to Spreaker or listen below to learn how you might just be the superhero you've been waiting for!