Walking is life at a different pace.
So much of my life has been spent rushing from one task to the next, one giant to-do list that is never completed. Walking has changed that.
At the end of last summer, I bid adieu to my car, and began walking as my main mode of transportation. Not having a car means no more excuses. I actually have to walk if I’m going to get to work. I have to walk to church. I walk to most things I do – at least in part. Even if I hop on a bus to run errands, at least some of the trip is done by walking.
When I walk, I am not in a rush. It doesn’t matter how quickly I want to get somewhere, it still takes time to walk.
Walking has changed my mindset. I have begun noticing things that I never noticed in the three years of commuting from my present home to work. I can actually see things I’m passing. Birds chirp around me. Snow falls on me. I get wet when it rains. People pass and greet me. I participate in the moments unfolding around me, instead of being wrapped up in road rage or contemplating the next tasks on my never-ending to-do list.
I discover a Canada goose up on top of an industrial building I pass. I actually notice it because its honk sounds like a dog barking, but I can’t see a dog around. The goose is clearly proud of itself up there, and I laugh out loud. It is like a private joke God has made, and placed at just the time and place for me to notice and delight in his sense of humour. Two days later, I see another goose up on top of a statue along the lakeshore. Again, I delight and laugh.
There is a place in the sidewalk where bird footprints were imprinted when the concrete was still wet. I wonder about this – how was that bird heavy enough to leave its imprint? What happened? Why was the bird so curious about a new sidewalk? Did it survive the experience?
I meet many people as I walk. Sometimes this is no more than eye contact and a smile as we pass. Sometimes it is several friendly words. Sometimes it becomes a conversation. Again – it has changed me from observer to participant in the world unfolding around me.
I had been pondering these thoughts for a while, and they were particularly coalescing yesterday over my long (25 kilometre) walk. Then I ran into my newest friend Agnes on my walk home from church. Agnes lives a street over from me. I first met her about ten days ago while walking home from work. She was bringing her groceries inside from her trunk, and I offered her a helping hand. She is a friend I would not have made while driving from place to place.
Agnes is turning 84 this summer. As we chatted today, she said to me, “I have worked too hard all my life, and now I am too tired to enjoy what’s left of living.”
Her words stopped me short. I am in danger of this very thing. I am task oriented, celebrating my accomplishments and looking for meaning in success. I desperately need the reminder that life is more about the journey than the destination.
Maybe that is another reason why I am looking forward to this summer so much. I need to relearn how to walk – to enjoy the journey instead of already looking to the next task on my to-do list. I will keep my mind on the destination, but I will participate in and enjoy the journey.