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The Walk of a Lifetime.
I’ve been a walker all my life.
Now, in my seventies, I must have taken thousands of steps across this world.
I’ve walked with a spring in my step when joy found me, and I’ve dragged my feet through grief. I’ve walked away anger, sadness, and fear—sometimes talking to myself, sometimes crying, always putting one foot in front of the other.
While some reach for a drink to find calm or relief, I’ve always reached for my walking shoes. Walking has soothed me, unstuck me, cleared my head, and gifted me some of my best ideas.
I’ve never cared about getting in 10,000 steps or joining others for group walks. For me, walking has been a solitary act—a faithful companion and, in many ways, my most life-saving habit.
My dogs adore this habit. In theory, I’m the perfect dog owner for them. They truly won the lottery by being adopted by a woman who loves to walk. But surprisingly, this isn’t always a good thing. Even dogs know when they’ve had enough. There have been days when the walks went on too long—too much thinking, grieving, ruminating, circling the same thoughts—and my dogs seemed to sense it. It was as if they were saying, “Please, no more. It’s time to go home.”
I’ve used walking to avoid decisions and to linger too long in the questions of who I am and what to do with my life. And although walking has helped me unravel and find clarity, I’ve come to see that the cure isn’t to keep walking endlessly, because eventually you’ll find yourself walking in circles.
We can walk ourselves out of pain and into our best thoughts and a steadier state of being. But my dogs have taught me the real remedy is to use walking to return to life—to love, to work, to create.
That, I’ve learned, is the true walk of a lifetime.
~
Dig a little deeper with this Elephant Classic article:
author: Linda Ford
Image: Personal Image of the Author
Editor: Molly Murphy
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