The CEO knew better.
During our two-day strategy session at a remote hillside retreat, deep in planning and decision-making, he insisted on something seemingly simple: walks.
Before dawn’s first light, during breaks, and as evening shadows stretched across the property, he’d invite the team outside. “Join me,” he’d say, gesturing toward the trail where winter’s final frost still battled spring’s inevitable arrival.
These weren’t just walks. They transformed conversations. Two executives who had disagreed sharply in the boardroom found common ground discussing their children’s sports while navigating a woodland path. The Head of Operations rarely spoke during formal sessions and shared breakthrough insights while climbing a small hill.
I noticed the patterns. Walking together eliminated hierarchies. Without conference tables and assigned seats, people spoke differently, and ideas flowed more naturally.
After returning home, I recommitted to my walking ritual – morning rounds with the dogs, midday sunshine breaks, evening strolls after dinner. The discipline matters as much as the activity.
Scientists tell us walking improves cardiovascular health, regulates blood sugar, and boosts creativity. But I’ve found something more valuable: clarity.
When stuck on a problem, I’ve learned not to force it. I walk. The solution often appears halfway through the second mile.
The Japanese practice shinrin-yoku (forest bathing). Ancient philosophers taught while walking. Our bodies were designed for movement.
In our hyper-connected world, where everyone claims urgent priority, walking creates sacred space for thought.
Your company culture reveals itself in rituals, especially the unscheduled ones. What happens during lunch breaks? How do people move through their days?
The most effective leaders understand this truth: sometimes the most productive thing we can do is step outside.