Yesterday I finally discovered how far I would walk in one day if nothing external stopped me. Usually there are constraints: companions, schedules, bad weather. But yesterday held none of those. After 35,000 steps (about 13 miles), my feet became a constraint. The sun was setting on the longest day of the year and my heart wanted to walk back to the beach and watch it go down. My feet, however, had had enough. (They won the argument. I took a bath).
Days when walking goes well are the best days. My body feels strong and loose, limitless. In nature, it’s a pure meditation with nothing but the rhythm of my feet and curiosity about what might be around the next bend. I emerge back into my daily life feeling renewed and light.
The past years of pandemic have shrunk the world. I have felt tethered to my house, my desk, my family. This three days on my own has untethered me. It’s not that I don’t want my home or desk or my family. I do. But it’s a lifeline I grasp with a free hand, not a shackle holding me captive.