« Seules les pensées qu’on a en marchant valent quelque chose »

« Only the thoughts that come by walking have any value »

Nietzsche in Twilight of the Idols

Three weeks into my job in Paris and I already had the most French experience one can imagine : participating in a manifestation. (I think the rest of the world assumes that the national motto « liberté-égalité-fraternité » loosely means something like croissants, lunch wine, and protests. Can’t comment on the mid-day alcohol consumption because my office is surprisingly hardworking, but can absolutely verify that croissants and street manifestations are crucial elements of their national identity.)

There I was, holding a sign, alongside new friends. The initial hurrah dwindled down after the first 30 minutes so I had two whole hours left on the walk for reflections…

Some background context: I’m currently working at a sustainability consulting firm and they wanted to celebrate the 25-year anniversary by hitting the streets to spread the spirit of positive climate actions. Honestly it was all confusing because in the days leading up to it, everyone referred to the event as a « walking-meeting », which did not at all explain why we were voting on catchy slogans and why there were tour guides involved.

At the first meeting point – a statue of an apple that somehow symbolises the disfunctional nature of the capitalist system – the energy and camaraderie was palpable as we were mingling with clients and partners, sharing excitement regarding the route ahead and the party later that evening. There were several gentlemen donning neon vests and carrying speakers, so naturally I was hyping myself up for a lively demonstration. Memories floated back to the first and last time I was on the street shouting about climate change. It was with a crowd of 600,000 during the 2015 People’s Climate March in New York City, just a few months before the landmark Paris Agreement. Needless to say, the two experiences offered quite a contrast.

The first difference : we weren’t marching, we were just…walking! I quickly realised that the neon vests allowed our guides to stop traffic when necessary, and the speakers were only used whenever we stopped at an interesting site. We held up our signs for the entire two and a half hours, but I’d say that it was more of a demonstration than a protest. There was no shouting or preaching, it was a quiet demonstration to show the city who we were and the causes we were rallying for. (Though I strongly identify as being a climate activist, the pronoun ‘we’ is loosely employed because I only recently joined this organisation. Here the French ‘on’ would be more appropriate as it denotes both the casual ‘we’ and ‘they’.)

Looking around I had to chuckle at how it resembled the literal manifestation of Teddy Roosevelt’s « speak softly and carry a big stick, you will go far. » Yes, the signs were rather heavy and we did walk 7km. The understated nature of the walk struck me in a significant way because (1) it was not what I had expected, and (2) I had to figure out for myself what I was getting out of the endeavour. At a large event like the People’s Climate March, just being there was reason enough to be there. One easily get enchanted by the power of the movement and of the masses. Sing enough songs, chant enough rhymes, and you would really feel empowered enough to change the world. That afternoon on the street of Paris, we weren’t forcing demands for a systematic overhaul of the economic and political machines – though that was the goal. We marched softly knowing that the next morning at the office, we’d get back to work to midwife that transition. I was satisfied by a different sense of belonging, not chanting with 600,000 people but quietly working alongside my new colleagues as part of the same movement.

I was 20 going on 21 at the People’s Climate March. That should illustrate the second major difference. The introspection was inspired by the reality that I, too, am going to celebrate my 25th anniversary of birth in a few weeks. For someone who thought (maybe still does?) life achievements only count before 30, turning 25 is a scary thought. In my world, being 25 means there are no more acceptable excuses for not pulling your weight. At 20, it was funny to march with a sign that said « I’m marching for the dead dinosaurs ». The veil of humour and the promise of future accomplishments after attaining an Ivy League degree provided too comfortable of a shelter for me to show up just to say « Hey I’m here too! Look at me, I’m with you! » While mindful to avoid unfairly disregarding my efforts during the college activism days, I needed a reminder that it’s about time to do more. This time – with an acute awareness of the difference between floating along a movement and walking to carry it forward.

It was somewhere around Sacre Coeur, Montmartre that I was reflecting on Nietzche. He was literally against people sitting too much, but the philosophy behind the merit of intentional motion struck the right chord. Recently, someone posed the question point blank if I was happy with my life. The answer – if anyone cares to ask in the future – is always a resounding yes, but that time I was fumbling to justify why. By the end of the conversation, I managed to explain that even though the personal and day-to-day stuff hasn’t been great, my spirit is happy and healthy because I’m constantly in motion towards being the person I want to become. It’s not a new realisation, but that was the first time I had acknowledged it out loud. Not always fast, not always linear, but constantly moving (something that would not have impressed my younger self).

The act of becoming is confusing, but only the insights that come while in active pursuit can feed personal growth. I recently came across Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi talking about reaching the state of Flow as self-actualisation manifested. He even went as far as saying that the « 10,000-hours experts » are the ones most likely to achieve this peak actualisation. That’s mixing a lot of psychological theories, but Marslow probably wouldn’t mind. I’m constantly in motion to challenge myself and to define the types of footprint I leave. So, would spending 10,000 hours working on becoming get me there? Don’t know, but what’s the harm in trying?

Let’s be clear that I’m not talking about throwing all worries to the wind and embark on a soul-searching backpacking trips through South East Asia. I’m lucky to be able to travel as much as I have – that’s a topic for another lengthy blog post – but here I’m advocating for taking steps with intentions. Again, it’s the difference between floating through experiences and taking steps towards a destination. My travels have significantly shaped my identity and professional pursuits. Exploring and working in different countries have led to a more mature perspective on international development and the environmental movement. But right now, I’m experiencing a huge amount of growth just from going to work at an office 5 days a week, (granted it’s also in a foreign city and with a language in which I’m barely proficient). Sometimes, these intentional steps are as small as trying to put thoughts into an essay even though I don’t particularly identify as a ‘writer’.

So who/what do I want to become? That seems like a valid question considering what I’ve been going on about for the last 1000 words. Short answer: TBD. Long answer: obviously I know the type of person I should be and the fields in which I want to succeed in, but I generally want to leave a trail of positive impacts and it’s hard to say from the start where that will lead. Another case in which dormant and abstracted imagination would not yield fruitful.

Only the decisions that come while walking have practical value. I’d like to imagine it as being on a hike with Robert Frost: only by making that turn at the fork that I’ll find out where I’ll end up, and I’ll only end up there if I make the choice to turn. There’s no ROI projections presented where two roads diverged. In my case, the desideratum is the ability to do the most good for the most people – be it myself, 2 people, or 2 million (cheesy, but whatever). And once on the path, it’s the conscious choices of going ‘right foot, left foot’, even when absolutely overwhelmed, bored, or exhausted, that makes all the difference. Voilà, rinse and repeat at the next junction. How do I know what I could become if I don’t keep pushing onward?

[ Insert a Mean Girls GIF of Lindsay Lohan saying « The limit does not exist » ]

I found the limit when we got to the 20ièm arrondisement, still 20 minutes away from the final destination and I was absolutely famished. A few of us had stopped halfway to refuel with croissants but those things were 80% air anyway. At this point we had walked for more than 2 hours; the conversations dropped off and we were just trying to get to the party. And that – was our manifestation turned mindless drudgery. I detest mindless work (mindless anything, really) as much as I fear the idea of turning 30. From that point came the next reminder to be internalized: take breaks. Take breaks to recharge but also take breaks to reset the intentions. In my 20s, the latter is much more pertinent because I am highly susceptible to the allure of checking accomplishments off the list. It’s a ludicrous race because the prize is just another set of tasks. Even though moving from one item to the next can be exciting, the checklist mentality feels dangerously close to floating… Even worst, there’s always the risk of being completely burnt out when taking on a behemoth of a demonstration towards social justice, climate action, global development, self-actualisation.

In a way, this writing exercise was the reset I needed to move forward. This reflection was about nothing and everything at the same time. Happy to report that there were delicious vegan food, champagne, and cake at the end of our walk. Will be happy to report my other progress as they happen in the future, stay tuned.

x HT

On walking