The Value of an Empathy Walk

Source: Pexels/Rquiros

Back when I was in acting school, we had this exercise: Adopt a Walk. You’d pick someone out and about in the world, someone with an interesting walk or a noticeable tension, and you’d follow them—not in a creepy way, but with curiosity. The task was to mimic their physicality as closely as possible. Did they lead with their chest, like some kind of swashbuckling pirate? Or with their head, like they were being dragged by their thoughts? Where did they hold tension? Their shoulders? Jaw? Toes? The idea wasn’t just to copy them; it was to feel them, to inhabit their body and, by extension, their world.

Recently, I’ve started doing this exercise again—even though there is no class and I no longer act.

It all started on one of my regular walks into town. I was head-down, in a hurry, when I noticed an older woman ahead of me. She was walking slowly—agonizingly slowly, if I’m being honest—and my first instinct was annoyance. But then I thought about the old acting school exercise. What if, instead of speeding up to dodge her, I matched her pace? So, I slowed down, mimicking her small, deliberate steps, the way she slightly leaned to one side, her arms swaying as if carrying invisible weights.

And then it hit me: empathy. Not the mushy, Hallmark-card kind, but a physical understanding of what it might feel like to be her. As I moved like her, my irritation evaporated. I didn’t just see her; I felt her. I thought about the phrase “walk a mile in someone else’s shoes,” and realized it’s not the shoes that matter; it’s the walk.

Source: Pexels/Priyanshi Garg

Empathy Walk as a Practice

This wasn’t an isolated incident. I started doing it regularly, turning my mundane walks into something almost meditative. One day, I mimicked a man whose shoulders were practically kissing his ears. As I adopted his tense, purposeful stride, I felt a wave of energy, almost aggression, and wondered what invisible burden he was carrying. On another day, I copied a teenager who slouched dramatically, his head tilted downward as if the ground held all the answers. As I took on his posture, I felt a heaviness—a kind of sadness that settled in my chest. These little experiments didn’t just connect me to others; they also helped me understand myself. What was I holding onto? Where was I tight? What could I let go of?

Empathy Walk With Silly Outfits (outfits not necessary)

Source: Pexels/Karen Irala

I’ve started calling this practice an “empathy walk.” And yes, I know it sounds a bit woo-woo, but stay with me. It’s about more than just copying someone’s gait. It’s about inhabiting their experience, even for a moment, and seeing the world as they might.

Einfühlung: In-feeling.

This practice reminds me of the German word Einfühlung—a term that loosely translates to “empathy” but originally meant “in-feeling” or “feeling into.” I first learned this word while recording an episode of my podcast, Fifty Words For Snow, where my where my cohost and I explore words from around the world that lack an English equivalent. Einfühlung perfectly captures what an empathy walk offers: the chance to feel into another’s experience, not just observe it from the outside.

Empathy Walk Challenge

So, the next time you’re out walking, try it. Pick someone ahead of you and mimic their stride. Notice where they’re tight, where they’re loose, how they carry themselves. Let their tension teach you about your own. Let their walk reshape yours. And maybe, just maybe, you’ll feel a little less separate and a little more connected—to them, to yourself, and to this messy, beautiful, shared experience we call being human.