The Art of Long Walks

I've been taking long walks most of my life. I have many reasons: to clear my mind, to enjoy the outdoors, to exercise. Ah, who am I kidding, it is mostly to clear my mind and think. I like to walk for hours and take different routes each time, exploring each city and town I have lived in and taking stock of my surroundings. I want to explore each nook and cranny of the town because I am never sure what I will see or hear. It's exploratory surgery of the soul and feels akin to listening to a favorite old record that you have heard a thousand times but are always prepared to appreciate in a new way. Maybe you hear a wonky note or a backing vocal that you never noticed before. Or a fuzz box, drum fill, or exotic key change that never resonated.

Discovering where the trails are is as important to me as finding a new back alley path or steps to nowhere that invariably lead to a private yard. These moments of discovery make my walks worthwhile. I sometimes take trails that I shouldn't because I want to see where they lead. I'm wary of trespassing, so I go a few feet and turn around. Or I will plow through the grass and trees on the side of a trail in hopes of finding a rare bird or tree. I have taken deer trails to their ends and have walked through creeks like a little kid playing. All trails do lead somewhere, except when they end at a fence or in a mud hole.

Sometimes I run into others on the trails and have strange conversations with them. Last time a kid was hiding from the rain under a tree, and he explained that it was raining harder in the direction I was coming from. I talked him into continuing, so he could see if that was true. Other times people race by on a mission to burn calories or get where they are going. I often imagine that they are running home to put out a fire or two. I step politely aside. I'm truly happy that I do not have to move that fast.

I'll keep walking for the rest of my life. I'm hooked, and it relieves my stress and anxiety. Sometimes I walk slow, but I often walk fast. I never have a real destination unless you count my doorstep. The journey is more important than the outcome. I try to treat life like that. I think I did when I decided to get my doctorate. Life is too short to do the things they make you. When I walk, I do it for myself and find great value in the exploration of the trails and the city. Most importantly, it helps me sort out my thoughts. I couldn't ask for more than that. That is why I refer to it as an art. It is the art of getting lost in yourself and the art of getting lost in the world, a world that goes by way too fast because we often let it.