Unsplash Photo Credit: Jeremy Bishop
I (Diamond-Michael Scott) have been car-free since 2012, and I’m not turning back. But if you'd asked me before I picked up “A Walking Life” by Antonia Malchik, I would’ve said my decision was practical, a commitment to a simpler, less hectic lifestyle.
What I didn’t expect was how this choice would deepen my connection to the world, to the people around me, and to something more spiritual—something Eastern philosophy calls the Tao, the flow of life itself.
Walking, I learned, isn't just about getting from point A to point B, but a means to reclaim our humanity. Antonia (or Nia, as she prefers) takes this idea further, exploring the ways walking is fundamental to who we are as human beings.
Her book connected so deeply with me that, as the Chocolate Taoist—a wanderer who strives for inner balance and harmony—I found myself weaving my own journey into the narrative of “A Walking Life.”
In our one-on-one interview, I discovered that Nia’s work is more than just a plea to get moving. Rather it’s a manifesto for freedom, healing, and yes, even resistance.
Reclaiming the Tao in Every Step
When I first gave up my car, I didn’t know I was embarking on a spiritual journey. At the time, I was fed up with the grind of traffic, the noise, and the isolation that cars create. I longed for a slower pace, more connection to the world around me.
Little did I know that walking would become not only a way to navigate my environment but also a path to self-discovery. The Taoist sages talk about moving with the flow, letting life unfold naturally, without force. Walking, it turns out, was my way of finding that flow.
Nia’s book, with its blend of history, science, and personal stories, brought into sharp focus what I had been experiencing on my walks. As I moved through the streets, parks, and sidewalks, I was engaging in something deeper, something primal.
As she writes, walking is what makes us human—it’s how we’ve evolved, how we’ve built communities, and how we connect with one another.
I asked Nia in our interview about the significance of walking in the chaotic, politically charged, and digitally distracted world we live in today. “Walking is a way to reconnect with ourselves and each other,” she told me. “It’s not just about movement, it’s about presence. When we walk, we see people. We encounter the world in a way that’s unmediated by screens or machines.”
This idea resonated with my own experience. I’ve found that walking allows me to be in the present moment. I’m not rushing. I’m not trying to multitask. I’m just walking, and in doing so, I’m participating in the world around me in a way that’s rare in our hyper-productive society.
There’s a Taoist principle here — Wu Wei, or effortless action. Walking is perhaps the most natural form of Wu Wei. There’s no struggle, no need for force. It’s movement for movement’s sake, and it brings us into alignment with the world.
Walking as a Radical Act of Freedom
One of the more striking ideas in “A Walking Life” is how Nia frames walking as an act of freedom—something I hadn’t fully considered before reading her book. I knew that giving up my car had given me a sense of liberation, but Nia makes a more profound case: walking, she argues, is inherently anti-capitalist, a form of resistance against a society obsessed with efficiency and productivity.
“Walking is inefficient,” she said, laughing during our conversation. “It’s slow. It doesn’t produce anything in the immediate sense. But that’s exactly why it’s radical. In a world where every moment is expected to be productive, walking gives us a chance to reclaim our time, our thoughts, and our lives.”
This hit home for me. As a Taoist, I strive to live in harmony with the natural world, but also to resist the forces that push me into a life of stress, overwork, and disconnection. Walking, it turns out, is one of the most profound ways to resist. It’s a reminder that not everything needs to be about progress or achievement. Sometimes, the best thing we can do is simply walk, exist, and be.
And then there’s the freedom that walking provides on a more tangible level. Nia’s book explores how walkable cities and communities are vital for democracy and equality.
When people can’t walk—because of poor infrastructure or car-centric design—they lose access to community spaces, to each other, and to the full range of their humanity. Walking, as she puts it, is a right, one that many of us have surrendered without realizing it.
The Taoist Flow of Walking
For me, walking has always been more than just physical exercise—it’s a meditative practice, a way to clear my mind and find balance. In “A Walking Life,” Nia touches on the idea of walking meditation, which resonated deeply with my own Taoist practice.
In Eastern philosophy, walking has long been seen as a way to cultivate mindfulness. It’s not about rushing to a destination but about being fully present with each step.
In our interview, Nia reflected on how walking can help us process difficult emotions. “There’s something about the physical act of walking that allows us to release stress and anxiety,” she said. “When you’re walking, especially in nature, your body is working through the tension. It’s a form of therapy.”
I couldn’t agree more. Walking, especially in green spaces, helps me find that elusive balance between inner peace and outer chaos. It’s as if the act of moving through the world on foot allows me to move through life’s challenges with more grace and ease.
The Taoist concept of Ziran, or naturalness, comes to mind. Walking is one of the most natural things we can do, and yet, in our modern world, we’ve forgotten how powerful it can be.
Walkability and Community: A Taoist Approach to Living
In 2012, when I gave up my car, I found myself more engaged with my surroundings than I had been in years. Walking forced me to slow down, to notice the little details of my neighborhood, and to interact with people I would have otherwise sped past.
As Nia explains in her book, this is one of the most important benefits of walking: it connects us to our communities in ways that cars never can.
We talked about this during our interview, and Nia shared a story about a town that transformed itself by converting an abandoned railway into a pedestrian and bike path. “That path connected people in a way that hadn’t been possible for years,” she said. “It brought the community together. People started walking and biking, and they began to see each other again.”
Walking, it seems, is not just about personal freedom. It’s about communal resilience. Nia’s book makes the case that walkable cities are healthier, happier, and more connected.
I’ve experienced this firsthand. Without a car, I’ve had to rely on my feet to get around, and in doing so, I’ve discovered parts of my city I never knew existed. I’ve met neighbors I would have never spoken to. Walking, in a very real sense, has made my world bigger, even as it slowed me down.
The Tao of Walking: A Path to Balance
At the heart of “A Walking Life” is the idea that walking brings us back into balance—physically, mentally, and emotionally. It’s a return to our natural state, a way of reconnecting with the world and with ourselves. For me, as The Chocolate Taoist, this is perhaps the most profound takeaway from Nia’s book.
Taoist philosophy teaches that the way to live in harmony with the world is to follow the natural rhythms of life, to move with the current rather than against it. Walking, I’ve found, is a way to do just that. It’s a way to align myself with the flow of life, to move with purpose but without force.
As Nia and I wrapped up our conversation, I asked her what she hoped readers would take away from her book. Her response was simple but powerful: “I hope they walk.”
That’s exactly what I’ve been doing since 2012—walking, moving with the Tao, and finding balance in every step. Thanks to “A Walking Life,” I now have a deeper understanding of how walking connects me not only to myself but to the world around me. And I can’t think of a more fitting practice for a Taoist than that.
If you’ve ever wondered what it would be like to move through life more intentionally, to walk not just for exercise but for connection, Antonia Malchik’s “A Walking Life” is the book for you. It’s not just a book about walking—it’s about reclaiming something essential about being human, something we’ve lost in our rush to modernize and automate every aspect of our lives.
For me, this book has deepened my understanding of the power of walking. It reminded me that walking is not only a path to freedom and connection, but also a way to live in harmony with the Tao.
In every step I take, I’m reminded of the wisdom that comes from moving slowly, from being present, and from embracing the natural flow of life.
So, the next time you find yourself overwhelmed by the chaos of modern life, do what I do: put on your shoes, step outside, and walk. Let your feet carry you back to balance, back to freedom, back to the Tao.
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Diamond Michael Scott aka The Chocolate Taoist