I walk every day, if possible. I always try to find the perfect time of day, when the sun won't be too hot or the when the rain abates. It has become a wonderful ritual for me. I plug into my iPod and go. I walk a variation of a basic route, depending on how the mood strikes me. I find it is a wonderful time for me to think things over, or to let me mind wander, or to clear my head and listen for a guiding voice to help me find my way in the world. I find true peace on these walks and they have become very precious to me. Here are some of the things that I have learned:
I wander past gardens as they ebb and flow in floral finery. I no longer see the weeds or the unkempt areas. I find myself searching for the beauty in the world and ignoring the rest. This is a great lesson in life...be aware of the ugliness but concentrate on the beauty. I do what I can to make my little part of the world lovely. I tend my garden (faithfully? pretty much) and speak to walkers who pass by while I am outside. Sometimes, I even give a little mini-tour of the yard to those who are especially interested.
I listen to the music as I go. The songs on my iPod (about 1,000 to date) are a real mishmash of styles. I love 60's oldies (the ghost of my childhood), medieval and renaissance music, current music that is not hiphop, some classical, some new age (my favorite is Secret Garden, given to me by a dear friend who said it always made her feel peaceful), and random music from all over the spectrum (if I hear it on the radio and like it, I will try to buy it on iTunes). I listen to the songs, in random order, when I walk. I am always surprised at what pops on, and I enjoy that. I am usually just thinking and the new song takes my thoughts in a new direction. I think this is what the songs are meant to do...it's all some grand plan.
Music has been my constant companion, since I was a little girl. One of my first memories of being a child is of me swinging on the swingset in my front yard and singing at the top of my voice. I just loved to do this. I loved how the songs I knew then (I have no idea what they might have been) were a reflection of the rhythmic movement of my swinging. I loved the sound of my own voice (I guess I still do, for all sorts of reasons). I loved being outside in the beautiful sunniness that was southern California. Of course, we lived in the 'country' (which is now a densely populated part of LA County); we had a 67-acre dairy farm. My swing set faced the road and, across that, an open field that ran on and on till it hit some foothills, and there in the distance was Mt. Baldy. It was so beautiful. When I got a little older, I would take my dad's turquoise transistor radio up into the haystacks and rock out to the bands of the 60's. I especially loved The Beatles, Herman's Hermits, the Beach Boys, (and so many more of the boy-bands of the day), the Supremes, and more. When I got into high school, I joined the choir and found out that other people thought I had a pretty decent voice, too. In college, my 8-track player was the thing I treasured most in my various dorm rooms. I own tons of albums, tapes, cd's, and now my digital music. When I walk, I will sing out to my music (sort of quietly, but I don't really mind if anyone hears me). It brings me tremendous joy.
I try to notice everything that is going on around me. I try to be careful of cars and trucks, of course. But I also try to notice every person, every bird, every cat or dog, the occasional raccoon; I even saw a mole once. Interestingly, I came across a new book (called "The Path"), non-fiction, about a man's daily walk (for the past 37 years) the mile to-and-from-work every day. He said something very interesting and I quote, "Ultimately, almost without my willing it, the path became more than a walk, more than an education, more than a life; it became the Path, a Tao (Way), a thread that ties one human life and the universe together." I could totally understand where he was coming from. This is where I hope I am heading, on my walks.
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