I wouldn't worry too much about wandering conversation. We are too few to be concerned about staying exactly on point. I can think of many examples of threads where we have sometimes strayed for several pages into such topics as electrical wiring methods or vintage outboard boat motors. And while I would not like to completely abandon the subject of walking, I find that if one creates a special thread to accommodate the conversation which has wandered away from the original subject, 99 times out of 100, the conversation dies very quickly, and usually in both threads.
Therefore, I do not wish to stop the ball rolling, so to speak. Being a church musician is kind of a strange job in that you never have the time to get really good. Unlike preparing for a regular concert or recital, you've got to keep cranking out new material, week after week after week. Because of this, I sometimes have a difficult relationship with sacred music. I am familiar with about 90% of the hymns in the traditional hymnal, so if I don't have time to practice on any given week, those come last on the priority list. I know I can wing those for sure. What this means is that sometimes I find myself simply reading the words and not really thinking of it too much. It is not my preference, but it sometimes happens. I don't think it's part of the human condition to be "on" 100% of the time. There are times that we need to coast.
The same goes for looking graceful and elegant. I think it's impossible to do it 100% of the time. I am made painfully aware of that on a weekly basis thanks to the church livestream. Not only do I have to play/sing five new songs every week, I have to be careful what I say in the background during the service (microphones are everywhere), and I have to be careful how I look and how I carry myself. That stuff is recorded and kept forever and ever, amen. If I have dropped my pencil and have to bend over to pick it up, a camera will see it. Potentially, the whole world will see it. This makes me think about things I never thought about before, such as how exactly am I going to bend over and pick up that pencil? How exactly am I going to walk in front of the altar to confer with my bandmates or to greet the organist? And why did I wear these stupidly high heels today? This is one of the several reasons that I have become much more interested in the mechanics of walking than I used to be.