Thoreau wrote roughly two million words in his journal, "a record of what he and Nature did on a given day," as writer Damion Searls puts it.
But even the naturalist who recorded the world around him with nearly unimaginable meticulousness saw the value of sometimes walking with no purpose. No classifying, organizing, indexing, or cataloging.
Just being.
"There is some advantage intellectually & spiritually," Thoreau writes in his journal in August 1851, "in taking wide views with the bodily eye & not pursuing an occupation which holds the body prone."
"You must walk sometimes perfectly free—not prying nor inquisitive—not bent upon seeing things," he continues. "Throw away a whole day for a single expansion."
In some ways, this is the harder discipline.
We’re so used to having an outcome, goal, or purpose that it can seem easier to go out and focus on achieving something than to move through the world with no particular aim.
When I lived in Arizona, I often hiked and backpacked through the mountains and canyons across the state. I loved the open air and wide landscapes, but often found myself more focused on the goal—reaching the summit or making it to the river—than on what was going on around me.
Having an aim changes the way we observe and interact with our surroundings.
Thoreau found himself guilty of this, too.
"I fear that the character of my knowledge is from year to year becoming more distinct and scientific; that, in exchange for views as wide as heaven's cope, I am being narrowed down to the field of the microscope," Thoreau writes. "I see details, not wholes nor the shadow of the whole. I count some parts, and say, 'I know.'"
Maybe this is a human thing. Just as we seem to need the idea of a story to make sense of things narratively, we often do best when there’s an aim or an end result we’re working toward. A start and finish; an arc.
That can be productive. But it’s also worth taking the time to “throw away” a day—to do something simply for the experience of doing it.
Not for learning, advancing, understanding, or personal growth. Not for sorting the world into categories so we can feel like we know what’s going on.
Just to be where you are, and that's it.
Consider: Where in your life have you turned something from enjoyment to occupation? Where do you focus more on arriving and progressing than being present in the process? Where can you “throw away” time with no specific purpose in mind?