Pat Taub
I was driving myself crazy over the prospect of Trump winning re-election, turning our country into a fully-fledged Fascist nation where hate rules. No matter how hard I tried I couldn’t shake my doomsday thinking. I was desperate for a way out, a path to quell my anxiety.
An answer presented itself in the form of Alexandra Horowitz’s nonfiction book, On Looking. It’s all about walking with new eyes. Since I’m a walker, I read with a fervid interest.
Horowitz had a small epiphany one day when she was walking her dog around her Manhattan neighborhood. As an expert on canine cognition, she wondered what it would be like to see the world through her dog’s eyes, so she let her dog lead the way. While Horowitz had been walking her dog on the same city block several times a day for several years, she was suddenly seeing it anew.
Curious to expand her walking perspective, the author took 11 walks with 11 very different people, which included a blind woman, a geologist, a doctor and the artist Maira Kalman. She simply asked each invitee to accompany her on a walk through her neighborhood and describe what they saw.
Walking with a blind woman helped Horowitz to hone her auditory senses
Horowitz’s experiment led her to conclude that because we are on autopilot most of the time we don’t fully take in our surroundings.
The blind woman encouraged Horowitz to be more sensitive to sounds, like a canvas awning flapping in the wind. The geologist taught Horowitz how to see tiny fossils embedded in the limestone buildings in her neighborhood.
Kalman seemed to notice everything, delighting in a child-like fashion to her sightings, imagining the discarded sofa with a single pillow as a welcoming resting spot for a weary walker. Being a people person, Kalman implicated others in their walk, stopping to talk to passer byes. I’m also guilty of chatting up strangers on my walks, which never fails to embarrass my family. The next time this happens I can remind them a famous artist has a similar habit.
Maira Kalman’s illustration of the discarded sofa she spotted on her walk with the author
I decided to apply Horowitz’s prescription for unhurried walking—a big change for this speed walker. I have a country retreat where I spend most of my time in the summer and fall. I walk the country roads almost every day in a mechanized way where I see the same images of the water, the fields of wild flowers and roadside homes that vary from those with beautiful gardens to a spooky boarded-up one, I have dubbed the Stephen King House.
In order to walk with new eyes I had to get off the beaten path, so I decided to investigate the vacated tiny church with a pitched roof, which on prior walks I rushed by. In my new walking mode I approached it, discovered it was built in 1885 advertising services every Sunday at 7:30 pm. Were the services this late to accommodate a day of farming? Next I ventured into the church’s cemetery, delighting in the discovery of a beautiful stonewall adorned with climbing ivy and a graceful rusted iron gate.
Deciding to take in a city walk for comparison, I drove to the small neighboring city of Damariscotta, Maine, where I’ve traveled on numerous occasions to visit the bookstore and meet up with friends. Once again I decided to get off the beaten path and followed a sign for the Francis Perkins homestead–Perkins was Secretary of Labor under Roosevelt. A narrow path led to a dusty front door that was locked and lacking a sign for visiting hours. A mystery to be explored . . .
How does walking with new eyes reduce my angst?
It makes walking a new adventure, buoying my spirits. It offers a deeper connection to my surroundings, which I hope will translate into deeper connections with acquaintances as I apply my new perspective into becoming a better observer and listener. Best of all, walking with new eyes expands my heart. Thank you Alexandra Horowitz!
“Take the time to observe the simple and ponder upon the seemingly insignificant. You’ll find a wealth of depth and beauty.” Melanie Charlene
