Walking Slowly

I’m a fast walker. Not just because I’m a New Yorker, I just always have somewhere to be. Recently, in Prospect Park, I watched a mother hold her child’s hand as she walked so slowly along a curb. One foot in front of the other. So damn slow. I thought, will I ever be able to walk that slow?

I hope so. I hope this (this piece, this writing, this substack, my practice) is me walking slowly, without a destination, walking not to get somewhere or fix something but rather to care, to be present, to be aware of what is happening, one foot in front of the other. Nothing more, nothing less.

If knocked down and frozen with overwhelm and grief, I will begin again. Because I’m in it for the long haul. Through all the madness, the seesaw, ups and downs of the world, health, government, policies, society, life, and love I will keep walking slowly as I can, I will persist, because in the long run it my ability to be present with it all, and my persistence that shapes the future and shapes the now.

This is why I have started taking my weekly talk therapy sessions while walking. As I slowly walk around my block, I talk, vent, clear my mind, and also collect trash.

As I walk slow and collect trash, I imagine others, the planet, my future, our children’s future (if we choose to have them, if we get to have them). As my mind gets clearer from the therapy and my block gets a little clearer from the trash removal, I imagine equality, healing, and restoration, large and small for all. Envisioning what recovery, loving, and nurturing this planet and one another looks like in a new way, because it isn’t this.

Then I can begin to walk slowly in that direction.

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