How Walking Helps Untangle Thoughts That Talking Never Did

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Crossroads Conversations

When I first started hosting Camino de Santiago walking retreats in rural Gascony, the French Tuscany, I assumed I would be the one doing most of the teaching.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

Over the years, dozens of people have arrived at my farmhouse carrying backpacks, walking boots, and lives that had gradually become much too heavy. Some were still working. Some had retired. Some were rebuilding after loss, illness or divorce. Others simply couldn’t explain why they felt so restless.

They thought they had come to walk a couple of sections of the Camino.

In the end, they became MY teachers. The CrossRoads Conversations blog post series explores what my guests have taught me over the last twenty-odd years.

One of the things that has surprised me most since I began hosting Camino de Santiago walking retreats is how often people tell me, “I just needed some time out to think.”

Not advice.

Not answers.

Not someone to tell them what they should do next.

Just time out.

This might sound strange coming from someone who spent many years as a doctor and therapist, where conversations were central to helping people understand what was happening in their lives. Talking is a powerful tool. Sometimes saying something out loud for the first time can be incredibly liberating.

But over the years, both professionally and through hosting dozens of retreat guests, I’ve noticed something else.

Some of your thoughts won’t untangle themselves while you’re sitting in a chair.

Sometimes you need to move to make that happen.

When guests arrive at my farmhouse in southwest France for a Camino de Santiago walking retreat, many are carrying questions they have been trying to answer for months, sometimes years.

Should I retire?

If I do, what do I want the next chapter of my life to look like?

And why do I feel so exhausted when everything appears to be going well?

Is it too late to start over?

How do I find meaning now that my old identity no longer fits?

These are not simple questions. They are not problems to be solved by a quick internet search or a motivational quote popping up at exactly the right moment on social media.

Solving some of our problems takes time.

And sometimes, it takes a good pair of walking boots to see the light.

During my retreats, my guests spend two or three days walking sections of the historic Le Puy route of the Camino de Santiago. They walk alone, carrying only what they need for the day.

That is deliberate.

I don’t walk with my guests because I have learned that when they say they need time out, they mean they need time on their own.

To have a conversation with themselves.

At first, many people find this uncomfortable.

We are not very good at being alone with our own thoughts anymore. We fill every spare moment with podcasts, messages, news updates and the irresistible urge to check whether someone somewhere has replied to something we sent three days ago.

Modern technology has given us the extraordinary ability to be constantly connected.

Walking in nature creates a different kind of connection.

There is a rhythm to it.

Left foot.

Right foot.

Breathe.

Be present.

Repeat.

The mind, which was initially racing through unfinished tasks and old worries, gradually begins to settle. Thoughts that felt tangled and overwhelming often start arranging themselves, almost without conscious effort.

It reminds me of shaking a snow globe.

When you shake it, everything is cloudy and unclear. Let it settle for a while, and eventually you can see what is actually there.

The Camino does something similar.

It doesn’t magically provide answers.

The arrows don’t point towards your life purpose, unfortunately. (I’ve checked. It would certainly make my retreat brochures easier to write.)

But they do provide direction.

I’ve watched guests discover things during a day’s walking that they had been unable to access through weeks of thinking.

A realisation that they don’t actually want the promotion they have been chasing.

An acceptance that retirement is not an ending but a beginning.

The courage to have a conversation they’ve been avoiding.

The understanding that perhaps they don’t need to become someone new—they simply need to resussitate the person they were before life became so demanding.

These moments are rarely dramatic.

There are no Hollywood-style revelations with swelling music and a perfectly timed sunset.

More often, they arrive quietly somewhere along a country lane, while walking past a field of sunflowers beneath the shade of ancient trees.

Sometimes the harder we try to think our way out of a problem, the more tangled it becomes. Sometimes the answer appears when we stop staring at the knot and simply start walking.

The Camino has been teaching people this for centuries.

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Perhaps you have thoughts that will need a little time out to untangle.

If you feel that a few days walking the Camino de Santiago through the peaceful countryside of southwest France could help you step away from all the noise and reconnect with what matters, I’d love to tell you more about my small-group walking retreats.

You can email me at MargarethaMontagu@gmail.com.