Solved By Walking
stories from The Hague, Louisville, and Sydney
Welcome to The Flâneurs Project. This post is part of our Interviews With Flâneurs series. I am always happy to interview people about the places they love - you can book a time slot here if you want to share your stories, or if you simply want to have a conversation.
Upcoming in-person gatherings: a walk and talk in The Hague at the end of July and an Interintellect salon in Austin in early October.
This past week has been quite difficult. During weeks like this, I am often reminded of a line from the poem "The Second Coming" by William Butler Yeats: “Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold.” This serves as a mantra whenever a big change is much needed and I’m stuck in the in-between.
One thing that has always helped me process change is walking aimlessly, impulsively, and cravingly, resting my eyes on the world as I take another step.
“Solvitur ambulando” is a Latin expression that means “it is solved by walking.” It is unclear who first coined it, but it is attributed to Augustine of Hippo, although it also appears in the writings of the Greek philosopher Diogenes of Sinope.
As I was walking back home from work in The Hague yesterday, suddenly something clicked in my mind, and the world once again felt enlarging, permissive, and the path in front of me disappeared.
Walking helps me remember what I keep forgetting.
Speaking of solvitur ambulando, I stumbled upon
’s blog, Solvitur Ambulando, a year ago and immediately sent him an email to connect over a call, as I knew we would have some interesting conversations. Please enjoy this interview I had with him about the places he holds dear.Hi Russell! Please tell us a bit about yourself and about any creative projects that you are passionate about.
I’m a writer and walker in Louisville, Kentucky. In my newsletter, Solvitur Ambulando, I write about walking (30 Walks in Nature and A Notebook on Walking) and about other topics (like living with a congenital heart defect and lessons from forgotten leaders). I also interview some amazing people. I’m also working with a firm to write a history of that company – to uncover the full roots and scope of a beautiful company culture, now more than 100 years in the making.
My uncle, my brother and I have a small commercial real estate investing firm, specializing in multifamily complexes of 10 to 30 units. The business was founded by my grandfather in 1955. My dad and uncle took over when he passed away. My brother and I became involved more than a decade ago when our father passed away.
I have a wife, Kathleen, two daughters, Beatrice and Cordelia (yeah, for Shakespeare!), and two Havanese puppies, Olivia and Otis. We all enjoy walking together too. Otherwise, I enjoy reading, cooking, smoking meats on the Big Green Egg, fly fishing, rucking, tennis, yoga and strength training. And Benihana / hibachi-style cooking. Love me some Benihana!
What is your favorite area in your hometown?
Louisville boasts a wonderful array of parks and green spaces, including Jefferson Memorial Forest, the largest urban forest in the United States, and the Olmstead Park System, designed by the firm of the famous landscape architect Frederick Law Olmstead, who also designed New York’s Central Park. I live near Seneca and Cherokee Parks, two of the larger in the city. But for a city its size, and indeed for one much larger, Louisville benefits from a beautiful abundance of nature.
You have a blog, Solvitur Ambulando (Latin for “it is solved by walking”), why is walking so important in your life?
When I was 10, I underwent open heart surgery. As part of my recovery, my Mom took me to the local mall and made me walk from one end to the other and back, about a mile total. A few weeks after surgery, that walk hurt and I felt miserable. But my Mom did not let up. Every day – head to the mall and walk. Those walks played a huge role in my recovery. This introduced me to the power of walking to solve at least some of life’s challenges – in this case, physical ones.
Later, for almost 20 years, I lived in a terrific walking city, Washington, DC. My longtime roommate, Cain Pence, spent our first year there walking all over – even areas most college kids wouldn’t be found in. He would walk 6, or 8 or 10 or more miles many days. He believed that the best way to know a city comes through the feet. I joined him on a few of those early walks, but his message stayed with me for years.
When I met my wife, she walked a ton. Well, I wanted to date her, so I put my walking shoes on too!
After my second open heart surgery in 2014, walking played an important role in my recovery. I carefully but consistently ratcheted up the intensity to complete my recovery, completing a walk of 4 miles in one hour, which I’d never done in my life, on my last day of cardiac rehab.
Today, my family - and our dogs – often walk together. We come together, we converse, we come to grow new bonds, on those walks.
In addition to physical exercise and my family fondness, walking remains important to me as an emblem of the sacredness of life. Humans think. Human feel. Humans move.
We encounter others in our walks. The world – nature, cities, streams, forests – unfolds underfoot. Walking remains a primary way we go beyond ourselves.
What city brings you deep joy while walking?
For a few years early in my career, I traveled to Sydney, Australia. I loved walking around the Central Business District and the Rocks area of the city. (As an aside, my favorite teppanyaki / hibachi restaurant in the world, Rocks Teppanyaki, is here.) I found walking through the Botanic Gardens, down by the Opera House, a lovely stroll. The CBD always felt energetic and alive. My favorite barber, Gino, had a small shop; when I landed in Sydney, I’d arrive in my hotel then head out for a walk to stretch my post-Pacific-flight legs. And I would stop for a haircut from Gino. I wonder if he still works there?
Then I would walk around Hyde Park and visit the Anzac Memorial, a tribute to the Australia and New Zealand soldiers who died in World War I, and in all military operations. As an American, I found it eerily poignant and affecting. Pericles said, “the entire world is the graveyard of brave men.” In this memorial, far, far from the Western Front of Europe in the seemingly old, old days of kings and empires, that point came home to me more forcefully than anywhere else, including Gettysburg.
Please share a serendipitous moment from a walk.
Well, last October, I found that my favorite clothing store in New York, J. Mueser, and my favorite tea room, Té Company, are about one-tenth of a mile apart. I didn’t find that on Google Maps; I walked it to realize it. Pretty darn nice!
Please share a story of a stranger that you met or passed by on the streets and why that moment stayed with you until now.
Louisville has a huge homeless problem, or maybe the homeless have a Louisville problem. I’ve worked for years with St. John Center, a homeless support and advocacy group. How can we allow thousands of our neighbors to languish on the streets? In the summer of 2023, I took “30 Walks in Nature” in and around Louisville. In Breslin Park, I encountered a few homeless men – sleeping on the pathways, in the bathrooms, at various places in the park. That walk haunted me, and still does. How can we allow thousands of our neighbors to languish on the streets?
What is your personal definition of the flâneur / flâneuse?
When I think of “flâneur” I see it as the urban version of what Stephen Graham calls “tramping” in his wonderful book, The Gentle Art of Tramping. He writes, “Nature becomes your teacher, and from her you will learn what is beautiful, who you are, what is your special quest in life and wither you should go.” He then contends, by tramping, “you are gradually becoming an artist in life….You are learning the gentle art of tramping, and it is giving you an artist’s joy in creation.”
Amend his sentiments for an urban environment: “The city becomes your teacher…you are learning the gentle art of flâneuring, and it is giving you an artist’s joy in human creation.”
Like a tramp, a flâneur does not rush – despite the harried cacophony of the city. A flâneur does not aim to annihilate distance. A flâneur takes time, observes, seeks patterns and the disruption of patterns, muses, pauses, retraces steps; all as if painting the cityscape with the soles of the feet. A flâneur uses walking to become what they are.
What parts of your hometown would you like to re-enchant and why?
I have worked in Downtown Louisville for most of my adult life. My family members have worked downtown for at least 70 years and three generations. Downtown feels like a second home for us. But for decades, Downtown Louisville has declined. Businesses have moved out and seem to keep relocating, often to suburbs out east. Much of the available office space lies vacant or has been, or will be, transformed into hotels. I keep wondering whether, in the modern city, with hybrid or work-from-home, whether a city needs a vibrant central area? Does it really?
I really appreciate the word “re-enchant” in your question. We need exactly that re-enchanting. In the middle of that word is the root, “chant,” which invokes rhythm and singing and song. And poetry. I fully know we need economic answers to downtown’s maelstrom – solutions brought about by money and business and commerce. And yet, I feel we need more than economic answers. I believe we would need to fall in love again with downtown as a place, a home, a heart of our community.
If you could name a street, what name would you choose?
I appreciate streets named for nature: Chestnut Street, Walnut Street, and so on. In a way, such names help bridge the urban-nature divide. Our ancestors seemed to view coupling nature and the city as a worthy aim, even when done imperfectly. Naming streets after natural things helped, in a small way, shoot for that target. So I would name a street Nature Way; my daughter loves axolotls so she’d name it Axolotl Avenue. Ha!
If you could move to another city tomorrow (and have every expense covered, job security, a new home), what city would you choose?
I would stay in Louisville. Most of my family lives here. We returned here when our first daughter was born for a reason: to return to the place we knew as home. As T.S. Eliot wrote in Little Gidding:
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, unremembered gate
When the last of earth left to discover
Is that which was the beginning.
Since first hearing that from a dear friend years ago, it has seemed full of wisdom and spirit.
Thank you, Russell!
Love this interview so much! And all flâneurs, really. But especially this one.
Didn't know you had such deep roots in Louisville, Russell!
love this format of a heartfelt interview, look forward to more of it!