Walking As Solace and Joy

December 12th, 2011 · 16 Comments · Beyond Gotham

Walking has saved my life and restored my serenity more times than I can count. When times have come that throw off life’s balance and inner peace, I know I have not walked enough.

Walking has always been part of my life’s journey, a way to constantly look around at the world each day, no matter where I am. Through it, I discover more about my surroundings as well as develop my inner self. It’s a crucial part of my spiritual practice. Recently, I realized again – and very intensely – how much walking means to my life and how much more I want to share this gift with others. Feeling the loss as I became off-track and didn’t walk as much as usual, I reflected on how walking came to be one of my pathways to peace and appreciation of life each day.

These insights came in the midst of a chaotic, demanding time this autumn, one that has brought both major disruptions and blessings. If you are a regular visitor to Mindful Walker, you may well have noticed an interruption and much longer time spans between postings this autumn. My walking and my writing so often go hand in hand.

Several occurrences happened that disrupted my life’s usual patterns. First, in mid-October one of my sisters had a life-threatening medical emergency, suffering a ruptured brain aneurysm. She could have died, and I rushed home to Pittsburgh as she was undergoing brain surgery. Fortunately, the quick actions of family members who were with her at the time that the aneurysm ruptured – taking her to the emergency room immediately – saved her life. We are blessed that the doctors and nurses at Allegheny General Hospital, where an ambulance transported her from a community hospital ER, were able to save her life and that she has come through the surgery as well as she did, though full recovery will take some time. Still, the entire event and my concerns over my sister’s health and recovery have left me shaken.

After I returned home from staying in Pittsburgh and being with my family there, other problems came up. One of my two beloved pet cats, who is a diabetic, suffered two hypoglycemic (dangerously low blood sugar) episodes within a month. He had to be hospitalized for a number of days each time, and the vets are treating him for pancreatitis, a difficult condition. The same time as his first episode we lost our electrical power for three days in the late-October snowstorm. Throughout this time period, my walking – and my writing – went totally off-track as I dealt with these emergencies, worked hard on deadlines in my other work, and then felt exhausted and unfocused.

Even after some routine has returned, I feel difficulty in focusing – and this is where walking comes in. In the fog that inhabited my brain, I realized that I had hardly walked in many weeks. It brought home the ways that walking creates serenity, solace, happiness, and absolute delight.

Walking, Transformed

I’ve long been a walker, but I well remember the time in my life when walking went from pastime to a life-saving and affirming ritual and exercise – to spiritual and meditative practice as much as physical activity. In the late 1980s and early 1990s, after the break-up of my marriage (as I think of it since, as a gay couple, we could not get married then), I went through several tough, turbulent years. I dealt with a new-but-difficult love relationship that needed to end; lost my communications job with a large national nonprofit organization; and encountered major financial difficulties.

For a time, things got very bad. I faced the threat of foreclosure on my house and was trying to sell it and move from Trenton to New York City. My life was full of telephone calls with banks and lawyers. It was a time of learning that external realities in many ways controlled the pace of solving problems and moving on. Yet I learned I could have some say over the way I responded to the difficulties, be grateful for my blessings, and have peace in the midst of this turmoil. Specifically, the inability to just get out of a house that I could no longer afford and that was “under water” mortgage-wise controlled how quickly I could change my circumstances, move closer to where I was working in New York City, and create a new life. I’ve often described that challenging time as feeling like I was swimming through Jello-O, and I needed to develop much more patience.

So what did I do? I began to walk, usually every single day. So often in life, a particular place speaks to us, and it’s not always clear why at first. I discovered a quiet school campus, Mercer County Community College, about six miles from my home in Trenton. Nearly every day, in the evenings before sunset, I went walking there. I grew familiar with its beautiful trees of many varieties; many contained small labels identifying their species because of the college’s ornamental horticulture program. I enjoyed the birds and small animals I saw and watched the sunsets and developing twilight skies. Not too many people were around on weekends and certain evenings, and this attractive campus possessed a peacefulness allowing me to slow down my mind and hear my inner voice and wisdom. Its grounds felt like my private estate!

Berries And Branch

Nature’s order and beauty, close-up while walking

In this period of turbulence, loss, and uncertainty, walking became integral on so many days, an activity of discovery and being in the present moment. I couldn’t dwell on a financial worry when I looked closely at the amazing array of needles on a branch of an unusual evergreen tree or spotted a fox darting at the campus edge. I didn’t escape my responsibilities, but the walking helped me not to be consumed by them. It brought relief, solace, and joy in the midst of stress and sadness. It helped build my inner strength in times of self-doubt. Something about nature’s beauty or humankind’s great creations, partaking of it slowly and mindfully as we walk, sustains our inner being.

The “Print” of Our Steps

One book especially made a difference. Peace Is Every Step, by Buddhist monk, activist, and teacher Thich Nhat Hanh, came into my life around that time. A gift from a friend, it changed my life with its beautiful, eloquent writing on the daily practice of mindfulness to be completely in touch with the present moment and heal our relationships and our world. In the book, Nhat Hanh’s thoughts on “walking meditation” taught me how to take mindful steps, breathe easily as I walk, and look around. Revelation!

We need to enjoy and savor walking, as Nhat Hanh explains, not just think of it as a means to get somewhere. Here I found a kindred spirit as I began to practice walking meditation. My own walks became more meaningful and enriching. (I plan to continue to write about various aspects of walking meditation in future posts.) “Although we walk all the time, our walking is more like running,” Nhat Hanh writes. “When we walk like that, we print anxiety and sorrow on the Earth. We have to walk in a way that we only print peace and serenity on the Earth.” How fitting and powerful to consider our steps as an interaction with the Earth.

In the years since, Nhat Hanh’s words consistently have called me back. Breathing and walking – slowing my steps just a bit in concert with my breathing – open my heart and spirit. Joys come. Tears come. Excitement comes. Grief comes. Whatever I am supposed to pay attention to in the moment occurs. I need only be open.

Hello, My Old Friend

In Central Park on a recent late afternoon at dusk, I met up with my walking spirit again. Central Park is one of those sacred, beautiful places to walk where one can never have seen it all. Walking without a particular destination, I found a sweet little playground that had a small bow bridge of stone, child-size. No children were there as dark was arriving, yet I smiled envisioning how boys and girls must love to play and run on this bridge. Leaves of cranberry red and light golden yellow were dazzling signs of life’s autumn cycling that would soon disappear as nature readies for winter’s rest. The blue sky of twilight deepened, with banks of white twinkling lights and the undulating shapes of bare silhouetted branches creating a serene pathway near the Central Park Zoo. Just a 45-minute walk, through the park’s east side, felt restorative.

Dusk Walk Near Central Park Zoo

Walking at dusk near the Central Park Zoo

It stuns and dismays me that we have built so many places that are hostile to walking. Thankfully, many people are increasingly favoring the towns, cities, trails, vistas, and other settings that welcome it. The places where no one can easily walk foster dissociation from our Earth, must like the distance I feel from myself when I forget the importance and wonder of walking in my life.

Walking brings intimacy and balance with the Earth and within us, as I came to see this autumn. Take a step, breathe, take another step, and follow your breath as you do. Renewed tranquility follows. As we walk, our inner world and our outer world come together powerfully in the present moment. These are the steps toward our soul’s peace.

What does walking mean in your life? Do you have a place you walk (or walked in the past) that has particular meaning? Share your thoughts with mindfulwalker.com.

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16 Comments so far ↓

  • Out Walking the Dog

    So glad you are walking and writing again after such a difficult time. I share your feelings about walking and, through walking, connecting both to one’s inner life and to the world around us. I sometimes walk the same paths daily, but they are never the same – nor am I! Best wishes to you, your sister, and your family.

    • Susan DeMark

      Melissa,

      I’m very grateful for your wishes and thoughts for my sister, my family, and me.

      I feel a kinship with walkers and writers such as yourself. You’re so right about the walks and paths we take daily always having something new — and how this influences us to never be the same, too.

      We are fortunate that you share your walks in such observant, witty, and beautiful posts on your blog. As one commenter said recently of your observations, “we are lucky to see them through your eyes.”

      Again, thank you!

      Susan

  • David Thompson

    Hi Susan,

    I must say this is a timely piece for me. I’ve faced some issues this year and work requirements have allowed me to lose my focus, so I too have walked less and I notice the effect physically and mentally.

    We’ve recently moved to a new city (Warragul, about 100 km from Melbourne) so I have an excuse to get walking again and explore my new environment.

    Best wishes to you and your family for the coming holiday season and 2012.

    Thank you!
    David

    • Susan DeMark

      David,

      You’re very welcome! I’m sending you my thoughts, and I hope that things have eased for you and yours.

      So many people are richer for the experiences of your walks, as you have brought — literally — a whole world of Art Deco buildings to an appreciative audience (including me), with your work and blog.

      Thank you for your kind wishes, and I’m returning best wishes to you and your family for the holiday season and New Year — may they hold peace, joy, and new discoveries!

      All the very best to you in your new home, too! I’m eagerly looking forward to the results of your walking in Warragul and elsewhere.

      Warmly,
      Susan

  • Collier Ward

    Susan,

    I am sorry to hear about the troubles you have faced this season; I will be praying for your sister’s full recovery.

    I’m glad you have returned to the nurturing practices of walking and writing.

    I’m also glad you have this space to share these things with the rest of us.

    We appreciate you.
    Collier

    • Susan DeMark

      Collier,

      A key blessing of creating Mindful Walker has been connecting with people like you. Thank you for your very thoughtful comments, and I appreciate the prayers for my sister more than words can say.

      You are so right in describing walking and writing as nurturing — those places where we meet the Divine.

      Likewise, I appreciate all you do in your work and in empowering, promoting, and connecting the communities of architects and architectural bloggers. You have such energy and grace in doing it!

      I devoted more of this piece to walking in nature, but I plan to keep expanding on walking meditation in the great spaces that architects create. I’ll look forward to talking more with you as I do that.

      Again, thanks so much. Mutual appreciation, to be sure!

      Susan

  • Ginny Williams

    This piece so eloquently expresses what I have experienced for many years…walking is healing.

    I have walked or hiked in big cities, suburbs and now the mountains and country trails of the southwest.

    No matter how I am feeling at the start of my walk, I am always in a better place by the end. Observing nature’s shifts and cycles elevates me above whatever earthbound worries I may have.

    Reading your post also reminded me that at any moment, on any given day, I have countless kindred spirits also having their own interaction with the Earth.

    Warmest wishes for a beautiful holiday season, Susan!

    • Susan DeMark

      Ginny,

      This is such an eloquent response. It’s a gift to be able to hear about the ways that you find that “walking is healing.” So true!

      Observing “nature’s shifts and cycles” is so much a part of it, ever-unfolding, season after season.

      You’ve helped me also to see that particular aspect of walking, that as we walk “countless kindred spirits” at any given moment also walk and interact with the Earth. It is a very powerful image, and it makes me think all the more how important our energy in walking is.

      As a coach, you help others to find their way on the journey through their lives. How appropriate that you love walking so much!

      The very best wishes to you for joy, peace, and beauty in this holiday season! And keep savoring your walks!

      Susan

  • Chris Ross

    Your writings are so beautiful, and this piece is among your finest. You share, so honestly, your pain and then with such joy and inspiration, the relief and comfort you attain from walking. You reminded me how important it is to walk and meditate.

    I recall the comfort and fortitude I used to gain by walking on the beach of Sandy Hook Bay every day and night. I used to gain so much peace by walking with my dog Sasha at my father’s cemetery; but that has ceased since we buried my mother there this year. And I used to take long, soothing walks at lunch here in the woods of Chester – that has ceased with all the work pressure. You have reminded me how important it is to take the time to walk and think (and sometimes not think!). I have already started creating my modest list of goals for 2012 – I am going to put walking regularly near the top of that list. Thank you, my dear friend…

    • Susan DeMark

      Chris,

      The beauty of your message is very moving. I can see that you feel very similarly about the joy and peace of walking. What is it about walking on a beach that provides “comfort and fortitude,” as you so aptly describe it?

      I am happy that this was a reminder to you, as I know how you seek out the beauty and spirituality of nature. So I wish you many peaceful, affirming, and serene walks, my dear friend.

      Thank you again for such an uplifting and touching message!

      Susan

  • Nita

    Susan, recent back surgery has hindered my own ability to walk with ease – something I took very much for granted until I couldn’t do it. Although I continue to regain strength, I’m impatient for the stamina to “motor along” on 2 good legs. Tackling Manhattan is out of the question for now, so I’m counting on you to do the walking for me!

    Thanks for bringing me to places I can’t get to myself.

    • Susan DeMark

      Nita,

      I continue to think of you as you recover, and pray that your back will heal such that you will be able to soon walk with ease. You are in my prayers always! I hope the comfort and companionship of family and loved ones during Christmas ease your time of healing.

      Since you are, as you write, counting on me to do some walking in Manhattan for you, I will pick out a couple of special walks and let you know about them. And then I will look forward to the day very soon when you will be tackling Manhattan…enjoying a long walk and then sitting at some cafe having a nice hot cup of Earl Grey tea.

      Thank you for your note, and I will continue on a daily basis to say prayers that you will be walking along easily very, very soon, my dear friend.

      Happy holidays to you, and wishes for a New Year full of health and joy.

      Susan

  • Maureen

    This is just beautiful, Susan. I’m sorry to hear about your sister’s health crisis and trust that she’s continuing on the road to recovery. And I’m very happy you’ve met your walking spirit again for your benefit as well as for those who read your blog (me!) and are lucky enough to know you. I’m off to Australia next week (be back in March), I will take your words about walking mindfully to heart while there.

    Sláinte mhaith!
    Maureen

  • Susan DeMark

    Maureen,

    What a beautiful and timely message! Many, many thanks to you for your response about the piece and for your lovely, caring thoughts.

    Just hearing your words “walking spirit” is tonic for the soul, as I look out at the sunshine and blue-lavender skies on the horizon today.

    How excellent that you are off to Australia! You must be incredibly psyched. I’ll look forward eagerly to hearing about your walks and explorations in your time there. Have a splendid time in Oz!

    With wishes for a wonderful journey,
    Susan

  • Lynne Suprock

    Swimming is freeing – both for mind and body – when the body needs a break from its mechanical platform.
    You are a strong woman and will never fail to find the strength that you need inside. Repetitive motion is the rhythm of the soul and possibly calibrates those endorphins for the mind.

  • carol

    I just read this, it is beautiful. Hope your sister is OK.

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