Sometimes you need to wander before you know where you’re going

I have loved reading You Are Here by David Nicholls this month.

It is a story set around a long walk through the north of England, but it is not really about hiking in the impressive-boots-and-a-proper-map sense.

It is about being outside. Being slightly uncomfortable. Getting caught in the weather. Talking when you do not quite know what to say. Seeing what happens when you keep walking, even when you are not entirely sure where things are heading.

Which feels rather right for Wander.

My usual dog walk follows the river: up one side along the wooded path, over the old bridge, around the fields and back down the other side.

It is a route I know so well that I could probably do it while thinking about dinner, emails, orders, uniforms, the house and all the other things that tend to arrive in my brain at once.

Often, I do.

But every now and then, something pulls me back into the walk itself. A change in the river after rain. Light through the trees. The dog stopping very firmly because something interesting has happened in a hedge. The huge open field after the enclosed bit of woodland.

And I remember that wandering is not always about discovering somewhere new.

Sometimes it is about returning to a familiar place and actually being there.

That is what I love about this month’s theme. Wander is not asking us to become adventurous women who stride off across the countryside with a compass and a packed lunch.

It is just a nudge to loosen our grip on the day a little.

To take the longer way home, if we can.

To notice the edge of the path instead of only where we are heading.

To let ourselves be curious without needing to turn that curiosity into a skill, a side hustle or a family activity everyone has to enjoy.

We spend so much time needing to know the plan. Where everyone needs to be, what needs doing next, how we are going to fit it all in.

But sometimes it is good to remember that we do not always have to be heading efficiently towards something.

Sometimes we can simply wander.

Not endlessly. Not irresponsibly. Just enough to look up.

Enough to notice that there is a whole world happening around us while we are busy trying to get through the day.

So this week, take a tiny detour if you can. Walk a different side of the park. Look down a path you normally pass. Sit in the garden for five minutes without taking your phone.

You do not need to find anything profound.

Just let yourself be where you are.

Book note: David Nicholls’s novel follows a coast-to-coast walk through northern England and is a warm, funny story of connection and second chance… a particularly good companion for Wander month.