23. Walking Inspiration

Long before this walking took root as a healthy habit, I would text my friend Dan about writer's block at work or some such. His text reply often was, Go for a walk. This New Yorker article echoes the things I have experienced as I walk. 

I had really wanted to participate in the #write31days challenge, but couldn't think of a topic I could devote a month's attention to. And then one day, the walking as meditation came to me, and I was thrilled.

He recently took a trip off the grid. Before he left he texted me: “Also, I'm taking full credit for you walking. Just kidding. But I really am. Lol. I crack myself up.” I assured him he could take full credit. I'd taken his advice time and again, and it had worked every time. And then one day, it seemed like my idea, and here I am:

 

A walker. 

 

A woman who walks and meditates. 

 

A woman who walks and smiles and offers positive energy to the people she passes on sidewalks.

A woman who leans into whatever emotion lands on her heart and mind and doesn't run away. 

 

A woman who simply walks and trusts the journey will get her where she needs to go. 

 

22. Walking Prepared me for Summer Highlights

The daily walking habit prepared me for two summer highlights, one planned and one unplanned. Cadence and I took a train trip to Chicago. We met up with my parents for a weekend away, and so that Cadence could purchase her long-saved-for American Girl doll.

We stayed in a hotel a few blocks off Michigan Avenue and walked everywhere. Dad figured by the reading on Mom's pedometer that in one afternoon and evening we logged six miles. I was tired when I returned to the hotel, but it was a good tired. I was also impressed that my nine-year-old managed that kind of distance without complaint.

 

Before this summer, multiple days of walking multiple miles would have worn me out. This summer the walking energized me. 

 

Then a month later this happened:

My Navy Pathfinder, Bert, got sick. On the side of the interstate. Three times. The second time, while the car was in the shop, I walked a Chicago's equivalent back and forth to Cadence's school. Once to accompany her to school. Then because I had no update on the car by noon, I walked back up to school to have lunch with her (a special treat for a kid whose mom works too far from school to do on a regular basis.) And then a third time at the end of the school day to pick her up. 

 

I marveled at how I really didn't think anything of it. I had the time, and I didn't have any other option. This summer's walking has reinforced how self-sufficient a healthy, strong body can be. Being towed to the mechanic shop three times was less than ideal. Spending what I might have on my next trip abroad on repair bills pained me. But the day spent in the sunshine, seeing my daughter in intervals I never get to was priceless. As was knowing I can handle everything that comes my way. 

 

Walking has shaped me into a better version of myself.

On the walk to school

Together for lunch

Glorious day. Look at the clouds!

 

21. The Benefits of Disruption

Hey love. Yeah, I'm talking to you. You, who are worried about sticking to the plan. Making sure everything is just so. Perfect. Not a thing out of place. 

 

I want to let you in on a little secret. I used to be you. I used to conform and think that there was a plan I had to stick to, even when it wasn't working.

I don't think like that anymore. And life is so much richer for the shift. I welcome the disruptions and the detours in life now. I understand because I've experienced it. The really good life stuff often occurs in the disruptions, detours, and unplanned moments.

 

One day after pausing at the fountains, I discovered that the sidewalk I crossed onto was torn up. I didn't think too much of it. I changed directions walked down the sidewalk that ran parallel to my usual route. I noted how this side of the street was shaded by the buildings, but there was less window-shopping to enjoy. No big deal. I kept walking.

I stood waiting for the white pedestrian light to flash. The road work was limited to one small portion of the block behind me, so I could have crossed the street and resumed my regular path, but I opted to stick to the alternate route. I am glad I did because this is what I found on that day's walk.

Beautiful landscaping that was there all along. I'd missed this little bit of splendor because parked cars lined the street and blocked the pops of color and organized landscape design.

I felt refreshed by the change of scenery and nature's beauty. I was happy to be reminded that in spite of disruptions' aggravations, they also have the potential for built-in opportunities for joy and adventure. But we have to be on the look out for them, or we'll likely miss them.

20. Walking in Extreme Heat

When I started this series, I had a rough outline of what each day's topic would entail. As with last year's series, the outline wasn't carved in stone. I built in room for new insights, space for the story to expand in ways that I couldn't anticipate. 

 

I have tossed out a few topics because when the time came to write them, other more important insights were waiting to be shared. I considered scratching today's topic since I've already dreamed up three extra posts that will come after the #write31days month is officially complete. But today's topic remains because as with yesterday's post, when I delved deeper I was able to find more metaphor and meaning—two of this contemplative's favorite things.

St. Louis summers can be soggy torture. The humidity is high, the sun shines bright, and some days there is no breeze to be found. I know dry heat, and such a thing does not exist in this part of the Midwest.

This summer I walked through the heat and humidity. If you had told me months before that I would have powered through those high temperatures, I would have reminded you that summer is my least favorite season, and I'm not outdoorsy on a pleasant, moderate day.

The draw of the fountains and the landscaping and the fresh air and the freedom from office land all conspired to entice me outdoors even on the hottest days. The benefits far outweighed the drawbacks.

On the super hot days, I didn't throw in the towel. I simply adjusted my pace. I took a water bottle with me. I may have even shortened the route a bit. The summer scorches tested my wimpy weather mettle, and I beat the heat. 

 

And here's where the deeper meaning comes in: Of course, I walked in the heat of summer's afternoons. Of course that didn't deter me. I HAVE ALREADY WALKED THROUGH FIRE, and come out safely on the other side. I have done hard things for a long time. I didn't always feel strong and mighty, but I persevered and did it anyway.

I have a tendency to underestimate the obstacles I have overcome. I felt the heat by leaving a marriage that was serving no one. I felt the heat entering counseling to better understand how I fit into my family's dynamics. I felt the heat every time my efforts and hard work were misunderstood at my day job. I felt the heat every time someone else wrote a narrative about me that served their agenda, but was an inaccurate, harmful, and wrong account of who I am.

Of course, I withstood walking on burning pavement under a punishing sun. I've already been burned. It reminds me of the process of glass blowing. The only way beautiful pieces of glass art can be formed is by being subjected to the heat of an open flame. No heat. No beautiful glass work.

I feel beautiful and light, kind and expansive in ways I've never felt before. I know it's because I now know what I'm made of. I know my own strength and the power of what I've been through.

19. Walking in Reverse

Within hours of arriving in London, my best friend saved my life. We were crossing the street near our hotel. I looked before I crossed the street, but in a foggy, jet-lagged state, I'd forgotten that the traffic was going to come from the opposite direction. I looked the wrong way, and a double-decker bus lumbering up the street nearly took me out. Luckily my friend was paying attention and noted my danger. She pulled me out of the street thus saving my life and the trip I'd saved for for months.

 

The jet lag had complicated an already disorienting situation.

I thought of this incident as I reflected on the day I walked my route backwards. I set out in the direction that is usually the end of my walk. I didn't think much about it as I set out, but as the path unfolded before me, I recognized the disorientation of my near-disastrous British street crossing.

Changing directions changed my perspective on everything I see every day. I was now walking into the sun rather than walking with it warming my back. I found myself walking down hill on streets that are usually uphill. I'd gotten use to the exertions of walking uphill, so walking down hill felt strange and a little more difficult than I'd expected.

For a second time in a week, I watched another long vehicle attempt to make a tight right turn. It wasn't quite as graceful as the semi driver's performance, but at least this driver avoided taking out a light pole. What are the odds that I would see two such vehicular spectacles in the space of a few days?

The fountains usually greet me at the beginning of the walk, but this day, they would be the dessert. And then as I approached, I saw this:

The water wasn't running. I have grown so accustomed to the power of this water that I was crestfallen. The ballet dancers are beautiful sculptures, but the water makes them breathtaking.

Sometimes when I get bored with the way I've been doing things, I mix things up. This happens most when it comes to the route I drive to or from work. The change of scenery changes my thought patterns. The thought patterns seem to be what bores me, so this strategy works. Generally when I take on a new route, I feel adventure and a sense of my world expanding. 

 

The backwards walk didn't feel expansive. It felt smaller. The disorientation was unnerving. I was having difficulty coming up with what the deeper meaning of this walk in reverse might be. So I slept on it. This morning in the shower (where the great thinking really happens) it came to me: trying new things is good, but so is sticking with the things that feel right. I've spent much of my life adjusting to what works for the people around me. It was a function of people pleasing. Those actions never felt right, but I did them out of habit. Today I know that doing what feels right--for my body in yoga, parenting my child the way that's best for her despite what others assert, and taking walks in the direction that feels most meditative--is the very best way to live a life.

 

I haven't repeated the walk in reverse since that day.

18. Running Errands

I was first a girl from two small towns, and then became a suburbanite as a young adult. I do not have access to public transportation, so I spend 90 minutes a day commuting to and from work. I like where I live. I've chosen a location where most of the shopping and services I need are relatively close. I can drive to the library, grocery, and dry cleaner with relative ease, but none of the services I need on a daily basis are accessible by foot.

The daily walks have added a new dimension to my productivity. By folding errands into some days' meditative walking—to the bank to deposit money, to the shoe repair shop, to the post office, and to the bookstore I feel the modern stress of “so much to do, so little time” ease. Just an errand a day or two a week, and the stress dissipates.

I'm also a romantic and a minimalist with European sensibilities. I love the idea of walking to the market every day for the food I need. While I'm not crossing that particular chore off the list on my walks, the other errands feel like a fill in. 

 

I stumbled on this interview with Sting and Jimmy Fallon. It combines two of my favorite things: Sting and walking! Sting talks about the privilege of having the opportunity to walk to work. I could absolutely relate. If only I could walk to work!

17. What I Found Whilst Walking

In the spirit of the heightened awareness this habit has cultivated in me step-by-step, today I'm writing about the random things I have found on my walking path. They are obscure, insignificant objects. They caught my attention. They piqued my writer-brain, which led to posing questions and kept me entertained as I walked my route. 

 

These shoes were on the sidewalk across the street from a court building. I snapped a picture and thought, What's the story here? Does the person miss these shoes? Did they hurt his feet? How were they abandoned exactly in this place?

The next day I passed the shoes again. In the very same spot. Do they constitute litter on day two? Is someone coming back for them?

I was prepared to take a third photo, but when I came to this stretch of sidewalk the shoes were gone. Who took them?

This sheet of styrofoam was waiting for me on the stretch of sidewalk near the trash can. Lucky break. I didn't have to carry it far.

It was a litter-picker-upper's jackpot. I couldn't stomach the idea of it being passed over and stepped on or broken apart into a million pieces. So much easier to dispose of it now, and avoid a bigger mess.

We have a coin jar at church. When the offering is collected, the children gather loose change from the congregation's wallets. I pick up every coin I find. Small gesture added to small gesture makes difference. I pick up every penny.

Again, how do shoes get abandoned? Does the wearer notice that she's only wearing one shoe? These are the big questions sights like these induce in this walker.

There's not much to say about this sofa pillow. It caught my attention because, well in a way, it's litter. It doesn't belong in the center of an intersection. I didn't retrieve it because I don't belong in the middle of an intersection rescuing a sofa pillow either.

This abandoned glass sat in the side yard of a home I pass everyday for nearly a month. A friend said she thought it was a glass from the Ritz Carlton hotel a few blocks past the home. I looked for this glass every day and contemplated what I should do with it, how it got there in the first place, and how long it would stay there. I was intrigued that the homeowners hadn't noticed it, but it is a stretch of yard that isn't mowed, so I understood how it would get passed over.

Then one day I looked and it had shattered. There had been a storm the night before, and I assumed it had been struck by something. I was a little disappointed when my game was over. I left the glass in pieces just as I found it and kept walking. 

 

A reminder that a new season is around the corner. What new ideas will I think up as I walk in cooler temperatures and crunch on leaves that turn fiery red and fall to the ground?

This is my friend, Jana. She's one of my best friends at work. One day I noticed a car slowed in the street to my left. I hadn't noticed it at first because I was preoccupied with the podcast I was listening to, but finally the driver got my attention, and it was Jana!

More nature.

I wonder when I see an abandoned shipping slip, “Is there a parcel waiting to be picked up?” Should I pick it up and do something with it? I choose to keep walking.

More of the same.

I found this little bit of loveliness on a family's driveway. It made me think of the cutie drawings my daughter has done in her childhood career.

This saying caught my eye as I passed my favorite retail store on my path. I like the idea of marrying adventure in the second half of life.