Stillness Is the Key by Ryan Holiday

which is not far from Grasmere. On these long walks, as lines of
poetry came to him, Wordsworth would repeat them over and over
again, since it might be hours until he had the chance to write them
down. Biographers have wondered ever since: Was it the scenery that
inspired the images of his poems or was it the movement that jogged
the thoughts? Every ordinary person who has ever had a
breakthrough on a walk knows that the two forces are equally and
magically responsible.
In our own search for beauty and what is good in life, we would
do well to head outside and wander around. In an attempt to unlock
a deeper part of our consciousness and access a high level of our
mind, we would do well to get our body moving and our blood
flowing.
Stress and difficulty can knock us down. Sitting at our computers,
we are overwhelmed with information, with emails, with one thing
after another. Should we just sit there and absorb it? Should we sit
there with the sickness and let it fester? No. Should we get up and
throw ourselves into some other project—constructive, like cleaning,
or cathartic, like picking a fight? No. We shouldn’t do any of that.
We should get walking.
Kierkegaard tells the story of a morning when he was driven from
his house in a state of despair and frustration—illness, in his words.
After an hour and a half, he was finally at peace and nearly back
home when he bumped into a friendly gentleman who chattered on
about a number of his problems. Isn’t that how it always seems to
go?
No matter. “There was only one thing left for me to do,”
Kierkegaard wrote, “instead of going home, to go walking again.”
And so must we.
Walk.
Then walk some more.