These days, our time is so taken up interacting in the digital world that it requires actual determination to move our physical bodies beyond exercise and into face-to-face connection; a sentence that would have sounded completely ridiculous to us.

How many years ago, did “relaxation” mean a good hold-in-your-hands book;  the author’s voice travelling directly through ink and paper. Back when walking was just… normal. When we didn’t track our steps. When we walked to the shops, returned books to the library, wandered around because we felt like it?

Now? Our walks are intentional. They’re even strategic! As if fresh air were a business decision.

And the strangest part is this: we find it hard to walk purely for the pleasure of it. Not because walking is difficult, but because our business is walking. We petsit for some of our clients, therefore, we have a dog or two to walk. Twice a day. Rain or shine. 

We walk to and from a transit stop, or ferry terminal, or airport. We walk convention centers. That's a lot of walking!

When we aren't busy with animals, Alison and I treat morning and evening walks as a small act of celebration. We refuse to be absorbed entirely by pixels, notifications, and the strange reality of living our lives out of a suitcase. It takes intention, and often we fall short, passing up a walk for “collapse and screen play”.

The other week we headed to Squamish to see the eagles. Nesting season. Big skies. Wild air. We had a proper walk with a dog along, in good company, connecting with friends. And so often, getting together socially with friends seems to require as much planning as a military campaign.

I tried to schedule naps for myself, otherwise we're “on” from morning to night like a device that we forgot to power down. Just to let you know, the "nap schedule" hasn't worked in the long run. 

In an AI-accelerated world, our competitive advantage may not be speed, but presence.

Hunter and Alison

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