The Purpose of Walks

            As I took a walk in the forest of El Chaltén, I thought of Henry David Thoreau. How did his thoughts flow out one after the other just by walking in the woods? I do come up with thoughts but they weren’t as significant. They were not really something that will shake the foundations of this world. They were just thoughts, flowing from one to another like a river whose tip and mouth I cannot see – a murky river that I cannot clearly see through. My question, then, is whether I should try to make something out of this stream of consciousness. Should I try hard to connect these strings of thoughts to something else? After climbing over stones and brushing away leaves, I came to a conclusion that I should not.

            Thoughts come and go. There is no need to make one significant. The harder I try to come up with something profound or original, the more the river of my consciousness seems to be blocked. The more I tried to become pseudo-philosophical – trying to connect random thoughts to something more profound – the more it feels like I was throwing boulders into the river only to block its flow. Instead, I should let it go and if something does come up, I can perhaps ponder on it for a bit. Thoughts are all valuable. I don’t think I need to modify them from what they are.