In Contact with Problems* Easy has a cost* 55 walks of 5.5 miles*

On a 3 mile walk today: Swallowtail in neighborhood cup plant in overgrown WS front yard

 In CONTACT WITH PROBLEMS

From Carl Rogers:

In the first place it means that significant learning occurs more readily in relation to situations perceived as problems. I believe I have observed evidence to support this. In my own varying attempts to conduct courses and groups in ways consistent with my therapeutic experience, I have found such an approach more effective, I believe, in workshops than in regular courses, in extension courses than in campus courses. Individuals who come to workshops or extension courses are those who are in contact with problems which they recognize as problems. The student in the regular university course, and particularly in the required course, is apt to view the course as an experience in which he expects to remain passive or resentful or both, an experience which he certainly does not often see as relevant to his own problems. 

Yet it has also been my experience that when a regular university class does perceive the course as an experience they can use to resolve problems which are of concern to them, the sense of release, and the thrust of forward movement is astonishing. And this is true of courses as diverse as Mathematics and Personality. 

I believe the current situation in Russian education also supplies evidence on this point. When a whole nation perceives itself as being faced with the urgent problem of being behind — in agriculture, in industrial production, in scientific development, in weapons development — then an astonishing amount of significant learning takes place, of which the Sputniks are but one observable example. 

So the first implication for education might well be that we permit the student, at any level, to be in real contact with the relevant problems of his existence, so that he perceives problems and issues which he wishes to resolve. I am quite aware that this implication, like the others I shall mention, runs sharply contrary to the current trends in our culture, but I shall comment on that later. 

I believe it would be quite clear from my description of therapy that an overall implication for education would be that the task of the teacher is to create a facilitating classroom climate in which significant learning can take place. This general implication can be broken down into several sub-sections.

Easy has a cost*

from James Clear: 

life gets harder when you try to make it easy.

• Exercising might be hard, but never moving makes life harder.
• Mastering your craft is hard, but having no skills is harder.
• Uncomfortable conversations are hard, but avoiding every conflict is harder.

Easy has a cost.

 55 Walks of 5.5 Miles*

Inspired by a NYT piece (What I Learned When I Walked My Age) recently about this woman who did 58 5.8 mile hikes during her 58th year, I've done a few longer walks this week - all about an hour - to get a sense for what those walks might entail.  Each time I see a few new things.  These past two I saw a lot of broken trees from a recent thunderstorm and microburst in the neighborhood across the tracks.  Also I've seen a couple planters that I'd like to reproduce.  I saw the swallowtail in an overgrown front yard.  I also have listened to big chunks of audiobooks.  Today I listened to Richard Ford reading "State of Grace" by Harold Brodkey... which I am hoping to use in AP Lit class this year.  

Which is to say: I'd love to do 55 walks this next year.  As many as possible with friends.  In the article, the author often says that the friends were the ones doing the organizing.

From the article:

My dad had died suddenly, at 59, and our regular walks are a memory I cling to over 35 years later. As I approached a stage of life he never experienced, I wanted to honor him. But I had other goals, too. I hoped to pair two favorite activities — walking and talking — with small excursions around New York City, where I live, and during my travels elsewhere.

Some walks went much farther than the 5.8-mile goal. Sarah and Tony, longtime walking buddies, organized a breathtaking 12-miler, traversing the Hudson River on the longest footbridge in the United States. Sarah brought fantastic chocolate chip cookies. As a bonus, I learned how to spell Poughkeepsie.

I didn’t hold others to the Sarah-Tony standard, though. A few people, because of injury or a lack of appetite for long walks, did their 5.8 miles in stages. Some were creative with the prompt: Patrick, an artist, took me to see a Käthe Kollwitz exhibit at MoMA, where we visited the fifth floor, found Gallery 8 and snapped a photo. I wanted to widen my circle, not limit it.

I walked with close friends and new pals like Dilan, who scheduled a stroll after we’d met only once. A mutual friend fixed us up knowing we were both tuned into all things aging, even though Dilan was two decades my junior.

I hit four of the five N.Y.C. boroughs, crossed eight bridges and took several ferries and a tram. I experienced Flushing with its bustling Asian food halls; the artsy grit of Long Island City; the cobblestones of Brooklyn Heights, Vinegar Hill and Dumbo. I finally made it to the Rockaways and Roosevelt Island. Each walk reaffirmed my belief that nearly every subway stop promises an entirely new world.

But I see my walks as less of an athletic feat and more of a container for everything I value. They fed my desire to convene people without the pressure of a party. They were flexible enough to evolve with other people’s visions, which sometimes fit the spirit but not the letter of the challenge. Most important, at a moment when the world felt unstable, these little pleasures with friends were grounding.

It was a Goldilocks of rituals and felt just right.