As I was talking with Andrew Forsthoefel in the spring of 2017 about his 4,000-mile walk across the United States, which he writes about in Walking to Listen, I asked a kidding-but-not-kidding question: "So, what were you walking away from?" Because you don't set off on foot to talk to random strangers unless there's something you don't want to deal with at home—but, as Andrew explains, the journey actually forced him to confront everything he'd been dealing with since his parents' divorce a few years earlier. And while he did talk to people that he met along the way, I realized that for the vast majority of his journey, he was out there alone with his own thoughts; as I told him, he could just as easily have gone up to the top of a mountain to meditate, but instead he chose to put one foot in front of the other.

Listening to this conversation again a few months later, I was struck by Andrew's thoughtful determination to really listen to others—to meet them with the full force of his empathy, even when (as we discuss) what they're telling him is rooted in prejudice and hate. In a political climate where pundits make a lot of noise about "listening" to "forgotten" Americans, Andrew's story offers a model for genuine conversation.