Out walking this morning, I am shocked to find that the world has gotten along on its own just fine without me. I haven’t been outside in a week, being busy with tasks inside the house. In the meantime, the trees have changed from empty branches to umbrellas of thick green, bushes and plants are flowering, and birds are filling the air with songs. I remember that I am part of the natural world, not the other way around. It feels enlightening to be outdoors again.
As I walk, my breathing speeds up to match the pace of the body. My thoughts slow down to move at the pace of my breathing. My mind and body reconnect, unlike when I sit motionless at my desk and work with my mind, ignoring the needs of my body until I stand up stiff, hungry, and dehydrated.

By walking, I loosen up the ligaments of my brain that I’ve strapped down to get work done. I let it run and play, creating games and stories for what I see. Sometimes I stop and marvel at the architecture of a tree, the pink and lavender colors of Virginia bluebells, a squirrel that is watching me watch it to see what I will do.

It’s irresponsible, I know, to walk around my neighborhood with no purpose. The neighbors nod at me as I pass by, without a clue that I am on the loose.