Walk. Look. Create.

footprintsI’ve been walking daily since I was a little girl. I have my father to thank for that. I relished my evening walks with him during my adolescent through teenage years. We’d set out, just the two of us, every evening after dinner, walking, sometimes talking, always observing the world around us. When we’d return, we were ready to tackle the dinner dishes and relax into the evening.

Walking is a gift. It is something most of us can do for free. Walking doesn’t require any special talents. We don’t have to buy any special clothing (although a comfortable pair of walking shoes is recommended). Most of us can simply head out our home or office door and just walk.

Walking is nature’s cure-all. No matter how I feel when I set out on a walk, I always feel better by the end. If I’m tired when I start my walk, I’m rejuvenated when I finish. If I’m feeling overwhelmed with work or personal issues when I begin a walk, I am clear-headed and focused by the end. And, of course, the long-term physical benefits of moderate-impact aerobic activities like walking are well known.

As an adult, no matter where I’ve lived – city or suburban setting, no matter the climate, I’ve always kept up my walking ritual. A daily walk, even a short one, is a must for me. I’m not one to listen to music or the news while I walk. I focus on my stride (to create a sort of natural rhythm). And I focus on my surroundings, trying to notice things that I’d miss if I were driving the same route.

I walk best alone. (Sorry, Dad.) Friends regularly invite me to join in their walking ritual, but I usually decline their offers. The benefits I derive from walking come when I’m able to think and observe in silence.

The simple act of a daily walk allows me to solve problems. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve begun a walk thinking I had a big problem to sort through, only to determine, 10 minutes in, that I’d been blowing the issue way out of proportion.

And, best of all, I regularly experience creative breakthroughs when I walk. These breakthroughs happen when I’m not even trying. The act of walking and focusing on my stride clears my head. Ideas flow naturally. Dots connect themselves.

Walk. Look. Create. It’s really that simple.

by Rebecca Cochran

What’s So Great About “Great?”

 

selective photo of gray shark

Photo by GEORGE DESIPRIS on Pexels.com

Yep, that’s right. “Great” is overrated.

For quite awhile, I have been thinking about the possibility of eliminating the word “great” from my vocabulary.

Is “great” a noun? An adjective? An adverb? Or, most likely, all three? What makes it so great to use “great” in a sentence? What is the meaning of “great?”

I always took “great” to mean “large,” as in the phrase, “something greater than myself.” Or, to use examples from the animal world, “great white shark” or “great horned owl.”

Another bothersome point for me is that “great” can refer to things both wonderful, like great art — and devastating, like great destruction during wars or storms.

And, I’m confused why so many of us (myself included) answer “Great!” when asked, “How was your weekend?” Does that one-word response really mean “large?”

It’s almost as if “great” has become an easy catch-all, something we use when we’re too lazy or uncreative to use a descriptive, attention-grabbing word — whether we’re speaking or writing.

What if, instead, when asked by a friend or colleague, “How was your weekend?”, I answered, “Delicious — A friend and I tested several new French recipes on Saturday night and we can’t wait to try more!” Or, “Mind-numbing — I spent the entire weekend working on my tax return!”

And, what if I worked to delete “great,” as an adjective, from my vocabulary?

I might challenge myself to be more descriptive in these instances, as well. Rather than saying, “That was a great concert last night,” I could replace “great” with a more thought-provoking adjective: “That was an emotional concert last evening, don’t you think?” Perhaps this change would open up a real conversation about emotions and feelings around the music for both myself and my concert-mate.

What’s your take on “great? I’m thinking “great” might not be so great any more.

Where Good Ideas Come From

by Rebecca Cochran

I read a neat story about Franz Schubert (1797–1828), the Viennese composer who wrote more than 600 songs, plus much chamber and orchestral music during his way-too-short lifespan. Schubert is one of my personal favorites.

An old-fashioned manual burr-mill coffee grinder.

An old-fashioned manual burr-mill coffee grinder. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

He was reportedly very disciplined in composing, working diligently every morning, nearly without fail. When a student once asked what his secret was, Schubert replied simply, “When one piece is finished, I begin another.”

One day, however, when his friend the German composer and conductor, Franz Lachner came calling unexpectedly, Schubert was not in the mood for work. He suggested to Lachner, “Let’s have some coffee.” Schubert then hauled out his most prized possession, an old coffee mill. He carefully measured the coffee beans, then took off his glasses and started grinding.

Within moments, Schubert exclaimed, “I’ve got it! I’ve got it! You rusty little machine!” He threw the coffee mill into the corner, sending the beans flying. “What have you got?” asked Lachner.

“This coffee mill is a wonderful thing,” explained Schubert excitedly. “Melodies and themes come flying in. You see, it’s the ra-ra-ra, that’s what! You search for days for an idea, and the little machine finds it in a second!” And, he began singing the themes of what would become the String Quartet in D minor, Death and the Maiden, which Lachner faithfully wrote down.

Apparently, even Schubert benefitted from the occasional change in his morning routine. This little story is an excellent example of how some of our best ideas can come from the most unlikely places.

Coffee anyone?

Reference: The Book of Musical Anecdotes, by Norman Lebrecht, published by The Free Press, 1985