Leading from the Middle

Caption: Flâneuse (a female flâneur) - better “wanderer” - with no destination in mind.

The French - don’t they always? - have a word for my addiction to urban wandering: flâneur.
But it is not the bon mot they’d like to think it is.
First identified by the poet Baudalaire “in his essay The Painter of Modern Life (1863) as the dilettante observer”, his “flâneur carried a set of rich associations: the man of leisure, the idler, the urban explorer, the connoisseur of the street.”
The “connoisseur” made a conscious effort to look effortless and to have no worries about where his next franc was coming from.
He was the counterpoint to the bustling industrial worker focused on earning enough to pay the rent and put a meal on the table.
Alas, in impressionistic paintings the “connoisseur of the street” is a habitue of sidewalk cafes and often in spats and tails, a preening boulevardier, twirling his mustache and leering at whatever there’s to leer at.
Imagine a prissy Hercule Poirot and you’ve got it.
Baudelaire – never the priss – did identify a unique aspect of some flâneurs and all urban wanderers, that the aimless walk-about “is linked to not knowing exactly what you’re looking for”.*
Recently, a club of flâneurs met in London – all spiffied up (of course) – and took three hours to move a few blocks with frequent stops at any bar or bistro of an inviting aspect.
No, that’s not my urban wanderer.
We drift, stroll, meander, ramble, saunter, and dawdle along with only a vague destination in mind.
We are exploring and, like a dog sniffing, stopping along the way when something strikes our fancy.
I say WE but the true urban wanderer goes solo, as depicted.
If we have a phone, it’s on airplane mode.
Some psychological research suggests that the ambler - by ambling - improves his life perspective. The saunter results in good feelings.
If you’ve got the blues, well, get out and take a stroll. You will likely come back rejuvenated and feeling better.
Is wandering a form of loafing?
Might be, but I generally gain insights into problems or ideas – my brain is active, open for those juxtapositions that might lead to a new understanding of some intractable problem.
I’ve wandered on-foot in New Orleans, New York, San Francisco, San Diego, Bologna, and Riga, just to mention some places that fit my need for aimless, hours-long wandering.
If you want to start small, there’s pedestrian friendly San Antonio. It’s Riverwalk network – five miles in downtown - is ideal for safely meandering.
Cities built for automobiles fail the urban wanderer: Dallas, Los Angeles, and Chicago (currently).
When the day’s saunter is over, it’s over.
In my case, when in a new city at stroll’s end I look for a bus or a tram or a subway back to my hotel. Usually that results in my getting lost and the hotel then becomes the “laser-focused” mission to rest my aching feet!
No longer the deliberate wanderer, I become an erstwhile commuter seeking the shortest distance between where I’ve been and where I want to be.

*There's a country song for this condition: I’m Going Someplace I Hope I Find


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When it’s time to rest up from your wanders - or for breaks along the way - my book, Fables for Leaders, is available. Click on the image and order up!

And, don’t forget Lubans' book on democratic workplaces,
Buy here.


© Copyright text by John Lubans, 2023