Just about 1/4 mile

My older child has been working on his science fair project. He’s highly motivated this year, having noticed last year how the stakes were raised: they expect more, but they give more. And he’s a computer-obsessed kid who is saving for a new computer. So he’s got this idea that his science fair entry could win him some money to put toward this purpose, and he’s been working on it as much as we have let him.

Since my husband and I both work with computers, we know a thing or two about it. And one thing we know, that we’ve been trying to impart to our kids, is that sometimes the best way to solve a problem you’re having at the computer is… NOT at the computer.

This may be true in general: When you stand at a locked door literally banging your head against the wall to get in, it’s very easy to ignore the open door around the corner.

The thing is, computers have this way of sucking us in. We become hyper-focused, not noticing anything in our surroundings, answering “mm-hm” to pretty much anything someone asks us. (My kids take advantage of this last feature relatively often, knowing that they might get a distracted “mm-hm” to pretty much any question if they ask it when I’m very busy!)

So even though it’s true of any problem that sometimes the best way to solve it is to walk away from it, I think it’s even more true of sedentary, hyperfocused work like computer programming.

That’s one reason I treasure my solitary morning walk: I often “write” more while out on a walk than in front of a computer.

In fact, I composed most of this piece while walking on Sunday morning. In that case, however, it wasn’t my solitary walk. I had convinced my very reluctant boy to tear his focus from the computer screen and ride his bike on my walk.

He was very reluctant. “I’m in the middle of trying to figure out a really hard problem,” he told me. “This isn’t a good time to go for a walk.”

“This is a perfect time to go for a walk,” I assured him. After some cajoling (and perhaps some not-so-veiled threats), I got him out the door. He got on his bike and rode out ahead of me as I walked. He zoomed down the road, then turned and came back to me.

As he approached, I saw the smile on his face.

“I think I figured out my problem!” he said.

We were about 1/4 mile from our house.

Sometimes that’s all it takes. You walk away from the problem, putter in the garden, or take a nap. And then suddenly, the problem that seemed unsolvable only a short time before presents itself fully formed in your mind.

We got back from our walk and I said, “OK, go solve your problem!”

He bounded up the stairs with a smile on his face, some fresh air in his lungs, and freshly stimulated neurons ready to go to work again.