THE POWER OF WALKING
Our culture subtly and overtly teaches us to move fast. It teaches us to ignore and follow. Our schooling system and families tactfully force us to constantly be moving, working on something, moving towards goals and achievements, and that even our free time is time to do something of value, something “worthwhile.” Instead of learning, we are taught to memorize and move on to the next thing. Over and over again, we are taught to follow authority and continuously keep ourselves occupied, and close off our voice and wonder. This is just one way in which children are traumatized and learn to normalize it, for it is just the way that our society does things. Technology simply magnifies this reality. Now children and adults become addicted to their phones, constantly scrolling and actively running away from being present. All this works really well in keeping us lost and disassociated from the real problems both within oneself and within the collective.
Yet, maybe this deep-set enculturated groove of going against our true nature, against nature itself, is what is pushing us constantly to battle against, to compete against, and to constantly be in drama, trauma, and sorrow. This collective organism, blinded in the rush of ignorance, is making us destroy the very home in which we need to exist — the biosphere. The destruction of the biosphere is the destruction of humanity, as we are interdependent on the biosphere for our existence. It also takes us away from our own authenticity. This is why there are so many psychological issues within our culture.
Maybe, we are supposed to be in flow and balance with the earth and our communities. How can we discover what it means to be in flow? I believe one simple way is by walking. Walking seems simple, yet in this simplicity is the profound. Walking is what leads us out of the enculturated groove and helps us to slow down, listen, move our bodies, touch the earth, and get out of the cycle of perpetual drama. It helps us connect with each other and nature without hierarchy, for walking creates an egalitarian plane of existence. This isn’t a walking about getting somewhere but rather a walking that is meant to immerse ourselves in what is instead of escaping from being present.
On a walk, I observe throngs of people speeding by in their cars or on their phones, missing out on what is directly in front of them. I also come across other people who I share wonderful moments with. I feel the seasons by feeling the weather upon my body. I will walk in any weather. And in so doing, I notice the difference in how rain falls and how snowflakes change based on temperature. I notice the moisture in the air or the intensity of the sun on a warm summer day. In spring, I find myself enraptured by all the different hues of green that unfold day by day. I find myself noticing animals and the different ways in which they relate and engage with the world. I notice the wind and trees dialoguing. By slowing down in my walks, I come across all sorts of different fungi and the way in which plants grow and flower. I often find myself by our local river and will stop and sit to watch and notice its multiple differentiations of flow.
Yesterday, I ended up at the river as the sun went down. There was an organic symphony composed by a throng of peepers while a community of geese conversed about their day. The sun melted into the tips of trees and into the swollen river. There were flows within flows. The beauty was so immense that underneath everything was a quiet that couldn’t be contained. Here, I couldn’t help but be open, and presence was all that remained. Learning was the nature of this as I took in without trying with every sense the incredible profoundness of this wholeness.
A young girl who was walking with her mom came over and asked what I was doing. Her curiosity led her to see this man simply staring into the river. I said, “Hi.” smiled and then pointed to the river. “Just listen.” They both stood there with me for a while. Though we didn’t know each other, we felt at peace. The wind was delicate, rich yellows and reds danced on the water, and the sounds of the peepers drew us into a presence that was immeasurable. After a while, the mom said, “Thank you, that was lovely.” Her daughter said, “Wow, I didn’t know it could be so beautiful. Did you hear that sound? What was that?” I looked at them and shared, “Those are peepers. They are tiny frogs that comes out in the spring. The males are singing, trying to entice the females. It is really lovely, isn’t it?” The young girl smiled. “Yes, magical. I can’t believe that they can sing like that.” The mother then said, “Good night, and thank you for sharing this moment with us.”
I just knew in my heart of myself that if people could begin to take time each day to walk, they would discover peace, joy, and a profound connection with our planet by slowing down and being open. In this way, we would reacquaint ourselves with what had been pushed far down through the way we were educated, which is wonder and curiosity for the simple fact of being alive. This is one way in which we can change the world. Walking would make us listen, and in that listening, we would have to wake up to not only the beauties of the world but also the violence and oppression that our system perpetuates. We would sense how ridiculous a hierarchal system is and that it leads to greater suffering, division, and conflict. And we would see that what we notice when we walk - the interconnectivity of all things, that there are no higher or lower grades of existence, and that we are all connected, would bring us together in love.
