Let me axe you something.

You've probably heard this old chestnut a million times, but here it is again.

"Two people apply for a job as a woodcutter. The foreman only has one opening so he suggests that the two of them compete by chopping wood for the afternoon. Both applicants want the job, so they readily agree.

The first woodcutter gets right to work. He spends all day chopping. He glances at the other woodcutter who chops for a bit, stops to take a break, then gets back to chopping. As the first woodcutter's pile grows, he chuckles to himself, confident that the job will be his.

When the foreman blows the whistle at the end of the day, the first woodcutter steps back and admires the result of his effort. When he looks at the other pile, he is shocked to discover that she has chopped twice as much wood! 

He storms up to the second woodcutter and demands to know how she was able to get so much more done when she kept taking breaks.

The second woodcutter answers, 'Every time I took a break, it was to sharpen my axe.'"

This morning I ran into a roadblock with a task. My initial confidence that it would be easily accomplished was soon replaced by an absolute belief that I was simply the wrong person for this job. I spent a good hour grinding away at it and realized that I just wasn’t getting anywhere, so I got up from my desk and left.

 I exited my office here in Vancouver and started walking. I didn't have a particular destination in mind as my mind was elsewhere. By the time I took a moment to stop ruminating on whether or not it might be too late to get into professional surfing instead of making video games, I had reached C.R.A.B. Park.

This park is an urban jewel, bordered to the south by Gastown with its rail yards and artisanal crack dealers and to the north, by the fluid expanse of Vancouver Harbor which swelled on an inbound tide. I walked through the drizzle and gray as I iterated over the endless permutations of how I might solve this problem.

I reached the pier that looks over the Coal Harbor skyline and the cruise ships docked at Canada Place. My entire walk happened unconsciously and with no recollection of what route I had taken, whether I had passed anyone I knew, or even what route I had taken to get there.

At the end of the pier I stood at the railing and looked out at the rocky shoreline, the undulating stalks of kelp that wafted in the green water and the squawk of a pair of seagulls as they fought over the carapace of a small crab.

After a dozen minutes of not thinking about the small details of the issue at hand I was able to identify the three things that my tunnel vision prevented me from seeing. I took out my phone, tapped some notes into an email to myself and then slipped it back into my jacket pocket before walking back to the office.

By taking some time to sharpen my axe, I was able to step away from what seemed an insurmountable situation and return to it with a sharper mind. If you find yourself stuck on something, walking away from it, briefly, is often the best option.

Thanks for reading.