Sunday 30 April 2017
Friday 21 April 2017
Notes on Walking
The sound of footsteps on pavement in the gaps between the tracks. Realising that you probably needed a coat and realising how much you like your own company.
That time in the evening with the moon on your right and the sun on your left. When I walk past the spilling out pub garden on a Friday night and know that I am just as happy as they are with one foot in front of the other.
When I take in the fresh air, this new and strange relationship I have with breathing. Thoughts come with the rhythm of my feet and my pauses to watch the water lap. Sentences dance in and out of the brain, catching you out and lingering a while.
Let's put these words in order.
Thinking don't play your heartbreak songs, thinking it's too late for fallen leaves. New shoes aren't on my side. Switch off, give it time.
The little people with their lights on, within entire worlds of their own behind brick and glass.
Smiling at strangers like you're one of the gang. Knowing when to let them pass and when to take the lead. Hello to the dog that's slightly over friendly and hello to the one that lacks interest.
You, smoking a cigarette. Me, never held a cigarette. You in my mind and me on my own, walking.
Tears on a face or smiles that creep then grow, remembering the nicer bits of the day gone by. Solitude, my own company with the memory of earlier on. The tickle in your tummy as you think of eyes and laughter. Walking on through it all - that's what walking does.
Taking it slow, slower. We're not the serious sort with our shoe laces tucked in. We, me. Me and the steps, one by one. Left right left right left right, I wander.
It gets so lonely, when you're walking and the streets are full of strangers, Joni said. Maybe I like alone too much for us? But lonely and alone are different, Joni. I don't like lonely so much.
Will you take me as I am?
The day ending, the journey back home, the stream that follows you back and chases you around until the next time everything's back together again.
A favourite part of the day, a favourite place out of home and knowing that it's the solution. Walking is therapy, is medicine, is sanctuary.
That time in the evening with the moon on your right and the sun on your left. When I walk past the spilling out pub garden on a Friday night and know that I am just as happy as they are with one foot in front of the other.
When I take in the fresh air, this new and strange relationship I have with breathing. Thoughts come with the rhythm of my feet and my pauses to watch the water lap. Sentences dance in and out of the brain, catching you out and lingering a while.
Let's put these words in order.
Thinking don't play your heartbreak songs, thinking it's too late for fallen leaves. New shoes aren't on my side. Switch off, give it time.
The little people with their lights on, within entire worlds of their own behind brick and glass.
Smiling at strangers like you're one of the gang. Knowing when to let them pass and when to take the lead. Hello to the dog that's slightly over friendly and hello to the one that lacks interest.
You, smoking a cigarette. Me, never held a cigarette. You in my mind and me on my own, walking.
Tears on a face or smiles that creep then grow, remembering the nicer bits of the day gone by. Solitude, my own company with the memory of earlier on. The tickle in your tummy as you think of eyes and laughter. Walking on through it all - that's what walking does.
Taking it slow, slower. We're not the serious sort with our shoe laces tucked in. We, me. Me and the steps, one by one. Left right left right left right, I wander.
It gets so lonely, when you're walking and the streets are full of strangers, Joni said. Maybe I like alone too much for us? But lonely and alone are different, Joni. I don't like lonely so much.
Will you take me as I am?
The day ending, the journey back home, the stream that follows you back and chases you around until the next time everything's back together again.
A favourite part of the day, a favourite place out of home and knowing that it's the solution. Walking is therapy, is medicine, is sanctuary.
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