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.

I'm not afraid of hard work

my Third Place coworkers

When I say that you should quit your job if you're unhappy, I don't mean because it's too much work. People often assume that 20-somethings are dissatisfied with their job because it's too hard, and not fun enough. As if our idea of fun was bouncing around a McDonalds play gym all day.

Actually, the best job I've ever had was working at the Third Place Coffeehouse after I got laid off last year. It was also the hardest job I've ever had. I remember one Saturday morning my coworker called in sick, and I ended up running the place alone. There were 15 people in line, and I was taking someone's money at the register while ten bagels cooked in the oven and I had a shot pulling at the espresso machine while steaming milk for someone else's drink. There was a crowd of people around the register waiting for their food and drinks to come out, and I thought I was going to either collapse or cry.

So I don't mean that all blue collar workers should quit their construction jobs to pursue a career in freelance writing. Or that all recent college grads should try to start their own art gallery. Obviously a lot of experience, saved money, and strategic networking is required to make that kind of endeavor a success, and besides, it's not everyone's calling.

I'm saying the exact opposite of what people often assume—I only want to work hard. Whether that's heaving milk crates from one room to the next or storyboarding a short film, I want to go home at the end of the day feeling like I've accomplished something.

where can I find a mentor?

^^one of my college mentors

In college, it was natural to form relationships with mentors. You sought career and academic advice from professors and older students. In turn, you helped younger students pick classes and choose majors.

In the professional world, I've found that it is much harder to create these kinds of relationships. My boss was a mentor of sorts—he gave me feedback and helped guide my professional development—but he was also the person with the power to fire me, a fact that inhibited trust.

I still talk to some of my mentors from the past, but they are no longer as relevant. I am great friends with one of my high school English teachers, for example, but she has either been a student or a teacher her entire life, so she can't exactly instruct me in the professional world.

Talking with my friend John last night, I concluded that at this point in my life searching for mentors and mentees will be necessarily awkward and intentional. But still worth it. John said that someone once approached him in graduate school and said, "I want you to be my mentor." Luckily, he was game.

How have you managed to form mentor relationships post-college? Or have you?

advice to the class of 2010

This video is from one of my favorite blogs, The 99%.

Skip to 2:50 for advice to the class of 2010, which I think is actually good advice to anyone, especially those of us who haven't quite figured out what we want to be when we grow up.

Some main points I pulled out:

• First thing after you graduate, stop and think; don't just jump into a job. First, you need a little money in the bank to be able to do this. Or helpful parents. Or an unexpected cash prize (which actually happened to me!). Second, "stop and think" doesn't mean watch a lot of television on your parents' couch. It means actively brainstorming. Journal about your goals ("spend part of each day outside, feel that what I'm doing is meaningful, exercise daily" are some of mine), skills ("learning languages, writing, relating to people"), and responses to what you read. And you should be reading a lot. You could start with some of the blogs on the sidebar of this page.
• Then, try something. You may not realize that you hate the cutthroat world of advertising until you work for a few months at an agency. When you find out it's not for you, move onto something else.
  
• Find your own voice and listen to it. I.e., take everyone's advice with a grain of salt. Including mine.
  

And here's some advice of my own:

• Don't get used to a salary. It's really exciting when you get your first salary. Your parents are still paying your car insurance and phone bill, you have zero people to provide for, no mortgage, no car payment, few expenses, and you get to blow all your money on booze and concerts. Awesome. The problem is you start looking for bills. You sign up for a gym membership, because you can afford it. You purchase nice furniture for the first time in your life. You donate a little money to your alma mater. Pretty soon it adds up, and suddenly your new standard of living means you can't afford to quit that ad agency job and pursue a career in non-profits. I really can't stress enough how great it feels to be free of debt and to know that I can live frugally. Go into debt for something important, like a graduate degree that will enable you to pursue your goal of becoming a lawyer. But if you decide to spend your money on a brand new flat screen, SUV, or cable TV, you better think long and hard about how those investments are going to help you accomplish your goals and enrich your life.
  

how to have a good brainstorm

Cumulus & Foam from Armchair Videos on Vimeo.

^^One of the partners at Armchair, Stefán Kjartansson, designed this typeface.

From college to professional life, I've often found myself sitting around a table with a group of people, trying to come up with an idea or arrive at a decision.

When I was 18, I was very good at pointing out why something wouldn't work. "Can't you see how cliche those metaphors are? If we publish this poem we'll look like idiots."

Six years later, I hope I've arrived at a more positive place. Not because I'm a nicer person or anything, but because I've realized how futile and even destructive that sort of criticism is. And I've realized that when other people criticize my ideas in that way, I shut down.

As I get older, I find myself gravitating to the people who let my ideas flourish before taking the editing axe to them.

During a brainstorm, it isn't hard to point out flaws in someone's idea: We aren't budgeted for that. The amount of effort it will take doesn't seem realistic. You haven't thought through all the details.

Of course they haven't thought through the details! The idea just occurred to them two minutes ago.

I am a born editor. I can't look at a sentence without wanting to make it shorter, more direct, more concise, and then finally perfect.

But that is the worst attitude to take in a brainstorm, when ideas are just forming. You have to let ideas get big and unmanageable before you start cutting them back. In order to generate any good ideas at all, you have to take the ceiling off a brainstorm and remove fear of rejection from the room. Entertain any and every idea, no matter how lofty and unrealistic. Then once things get serious, you can start poking holes and scaling back.

Don't just practice this with your coworkers and peers; take the same attitude toward private brainstorms with yourself.

Like when you're trying to answer, "What do I want to do with my life?"

how should recent graduates job search?

On the drive back from Raleigh yesterday, I ate at Bojangles. I also talked on the phone with a friend who just graduated from a top university and is looking for a job. Though there are specific fields he is interested in — public transportation, marketing — he's open to almost anything, almost anywhere.

He's already avoiding the mistakes I made when I was applying for jobs a year ago, by getting specific. (I literally told friends and connections, "Well, I'd like to write, but really I'm just looking for anything." As if that wouldn't just overwhelm them.) He drove buses all through college, which puts him at a unique position to work in public transportation planning.

My friend has applied to dozens of jobs through corporate websites. He realizes that this has been fruitless, but he is at a loss for what else to do.

I encouraged him to pick a city, move there, and get connected, since he has some savings he can burn through for a few months.

And of course I told him Atlanta was the place to move. Cheap rent, lots of companies, and at least one really strong connection—me.

Was this good advice? Do you think it's better to hunker down in your parents' house and apply for jobs until you get something? Those of you who have gone through this, what would you tell my friend?

Image from thetastingbuds.com.

the risk of doing nothing

Instead of fearing all the ways you could fail if you really went after what you cared about, you should be fearing all the ways you are missing out by continuing to do exactly what you're doing right now.

Do you daydream about quitting your day job to write a fashion blog? You probably shouldn't look to your friends or parents for affirmation, who may tell you all the reasons doing so is unrealistic. Instead, contact other fashion bloggers to request informational interviews to see what action steps are required for you to feasibly pursue your goal.

Do you want to take a trip to Europe, but are worried about it costing too much money? Research air fare, lodging and other costs—then look at your bank account to see how many months you'll need to save to make it happen. You might need to trade in your Aveda shampoo for Pantene. But then you'll get to effing go to Europe!

The alternative: You keep on doing the exact same things you are now, gaining nothing but losing nothing.

But are you really losing nothing?

I've read a lot of good articles recently about the risk of doing nothing. Many of them take us back to Econ 101 and demonstrate the opportunity cost of doing nothing. Every week that you fail to act on your ambitions and continue to suffer the status quo you are dissatisfied with, you are actually losing another week of potential happiness, meaning, experience and even money that will result from doing what you want to do.

Not to mention: Our minds and bodies are finite. The harsh reality is that each week you are getting older. You are dying.

So what did you lose this week by doing nothing?