Aldous Huxley’s father considered a walk among the mountains as the equivalent of churchgoing. Walt Whitman spoke of his longing to “walk undisturbed” in a garden of beautiful flowers in one of his poems. And Dolly Parton had once said, “I walk tall; I got a tall attitude.”
Me? I walk because I just love walking.
There is so much joy, so much learning, so much fun in the simple, simple act of walking that I thought it worth my while to write this ode.
Whether I am walking among the mountains, on the road less traveled, or even in a concrete jungle, there’s something about walking that lifts not just my step but my spirit as well.
Nature trails are the best for walking, yes. Didn’t the great naturalist John Muir once remark, “In every walk with nature, one receives far more than he seeks”?
Fortunately for me, I’m blessed to receive a lot not only in the midst of nature but also wherever I happen to be walking.
Here I’m sharing a few of my experiences and thoughts on walking in different places and situations.
Let me begin with nature.
Nature, in my view, works its magic best while you are ambling about, quietly admiring its sights, sounds, and smells.
Years ago, I was going back to our camping base with a bunch of teachers and students. We were staying in a forest in the Himalayas for 10 days as part of a study-cum-adventure camp. It was the best time of the day: morning. The trail we were walking on was flanked by mighty, benevolent trees. The rays of the sun were just beginning to penetrate the leaves and kiss our footsteps. Birds were singing as if for the first time. We were hardly speaking but a lot was conveyed in that long, blissful walk.
Nature, in my view, works its magic best while you are ambling about, quietly admiring its sights, sounds, and smells. Before you know, you hear the birdsong’s echo in your heart. A smile appears on your lips out of nowhere. Happiness rules. And gratitude. And love.
I was once on a work trip and staying in a hotel in a city I hardly knew. As is my wont, I slipped out of the hotel at the first opportunity in order to explore the area around it in the best way I could think of: on foot. It was evening and getting dark and people were hurrying home in the daily orchestra of routines familiar to cities all around the world. Honk-honk, screech-screech, rush-rush. Pedestrians crossing the roads with quick steps, before the traffic light turns green again. The wheelbarrow fruit vendors agreeing to sell their perishables at lower and lower prices to hard-nosed shoppers in the hope of clearing out their stock for the day. Mosquitoes swarming in the dusk, ready to attack some more than others for reasons best known to them.
For a moment I paused and stood still at a crossroads, watching the drama of urban life all around me. The sun just disappeared with double-quick speed behind a building but its reflection was still visible on another glass giant across the road. The warmth and the light of the yellow star, which looked like an orange ball before bouncing off for the day, would remain for another half hour or so.
In that exploratory walk (I was being a ‘flaneur’ I found out later), I got to know more about that particular area of the city than if I had been running or driving past in a car (though running and driving have their own charms).
When you put your whole and soul into the act of walking, you are rewarded with an indescribable feeling of joy and achievement.
Of late, I have begun to observe how I walk and what happens in the body when we walk. Especially when I go for morning walks. I’ve noticed, for example, that when I keep walking even when I’m feeling a bit tired or “not up to it”, my senses perk up gradually. After about three or four thousand steps, the blood circulation improves and sends my attitude scurrying toward positivity again. What earlier seemed like a burden becomes easy and light as a feather.
Another observation: when you put your whole and soul into the act of walking, you are rewarded with an indescribable feeling of joy and achievement (something similar happens in running and other sporting activities, I’m sure). If the mind gets pulled into worrisome thoughts about what the day ahead holds, I chide it gently and bring my awareness and focus back to where I’m going; how I’m lifting and putting forth each foot; whether the body in motion is carrying the mind along; whether the breathing is deep and rhythmic enough to be as effortless as possible, giving me more ‘bang for the breath’, so to say.
I visualize my own reflection in an imaginary, life-size mirror placed ahead of me. When all the elements of walking—the limbs, the thoughts, the breathing—are well-aligned, when the act of walking becomes an integral part of my present being, the reflected image naturally assumes an effortless, innate grace.
You can indeed realize your true self through the simple, serene act of walking.
I tend to think of such graceful, wholesome walking instances akin to the ‘walking meditation’ that the Buddha is often said to have practiced.
I walk some more.
Walking gives us not only the space we so constantly seek but also offers multiple opportunities, in a variety of paces, to slow down for, pause and observe, and touch and experience the beautiful things that otherwise get missed in the hustle of modern, gadget-obsessed life.
At least for me, walking is a way of connecting with our pristine, humane nature. Allowing us to exercise not just the muscles, but our common, inner faculty of joy and wonder too.
Let me end this note with these lovely, thought-provoking words by American singer-songwriter Roger Miller: “Some people walk in the rain, others just get wet.”
Thank you for walking with me.
