If you go on a walk with a question, you'll return with an answer.

I robbed this photo from Emily Dryden.

"If you go on a walk with a question, you'll return with an answer."

If I remember correctly, I got this piece of wisdom from a New Raleigh commenter. And for much of my adult life, it has rung true.

It was on a long walk one Sunday in February 2009 that I decided to move to Atlanta.

And it wasn't until the iPod connector for my car stereo was stolen and I was forced to drive the 1.5-hour daily round-trip commute in silence that I decided to quit my job.

From fall 2008 to spring 2009 I drove the 400 miles between Raleigh and Atlanta about a dozen times, meaning I was alone, with very little entertainment, for a total of over 72 hours. During those drives, more than during any other event, I grieved for my father.

Whether it's a long walk or a long drive, I tend to arrive at great conclusions during times of silence and solitude. And I don't think the New Raleigh commenter and I are the only ones. Legend even has it that Archimedes claimed "Eureka!" while enjoying a nice bath.

This spring, the MoMA held an exhibit where visitors waited their turn in order to sit down at a table in front of performance artist Marina Abramovic and simply stare, in complete silence, for however long they wanted.

Many reported that they lost track of time, and even cried.

What is happening in our brains during these quiet moments?

Last week the New York Times informed us that we need this kind of "downtime" to process our experiences:

“Almost certainly, downtime lets the brain go over experiences it’s had, solidify them and turn them into permanent long-term memories,” said Loren Frank, assistant professor in the department of physiology at the university, where he specializes in learning and memory. He said he believed that when the brain was constantly stimulated, “you prevent this learning process.”

At the University of Michigan, a study found that people learned significantly better after a walk in nature than after a walk in a dense urban environment, suggesting that processing a barrage of information leaves people fatigued.

Science confirms the aphorism: Giving ourselves periods of silence and solitude can lead to revelations, or at least help us remember better.

I am trying to say "no" more often—to avoiding the hard, pressing questions about where I'm going and what impact I'm having. Although it's difficult to close my computer, to leave my cell phone in the other room, to turn down the invitation to go out with friends or even just watch a movie alone, I am realizing that I need that quiet space to let the wheels spin, and eventually slow down, before moving on to the next thing.