Why I walk

Why I walk

I walk to feel

I walk to forget

I walk to discover

To explore hidden parts

Of myself

And the land

I walk to feel love

I walk to find home

A sense of belonging

And then I walk some more

I walk with curiosity

I walk to drink in the vast views

And sheer beauty of miniature details

I walk to feel gratitude

I walk to rejoice in the abundance of the world

It's pulsating rhythm of life

And ever-changing seasons and colours

I walk for health

I walk to experience the power of my body

I walk for potency and sensitivity

Sometimes I stop awhile

Something asks me to pause

Lie down

Listen

Ask a question perhaps

Lean back against a tree

Or be immersed in the flow of the river

I may sit in a stone circle

Monumentalising an extraordinary relationship with tors, rivers, and hills

Taking a break

A flask of tea warms my hands against the icy chill

I notice the colours of lichens on the rocks

And icicles wrapped around ferns dripping from the riverbank

And then I walk some more

My dog beside me

Or just in front

She’s happy, content to be walking

Stopping occasionally to ensure I’m close by

Never out of sight, always watchful

I walk to connect

To reconnect

To commune

With the ravens and oak, damselfly and pony

With giants and pixies, witches and dragons

With beings - seen and unseen

And so I walk myself back into remembering

The interdependency and interconnectedness of all life on earth

Just one tiny cell inside this living, breathing being that offers succour, shelter,

and sensibility to all who inhabit her

I walk to feel lifeforce pulsating through my body

I walk to feel the mossy, peaty turf under my boots

I walk into the wind

And away from the wind

To feel it’s wildness whipping hair around my face

To hear the buzzard, stonechat, snipe, and curlew

Watching clouds metamorphose as they race across hills and valleys

This is an ancient land

People have lived and loved these places for thousands of years

I am just one more

Here for a moment in time

Longing to know their history, daily lives, stories and rituals

And yet also delighted by the mystery and the magic of not knowing

Of discovery, of exploration

The more I walk

The more I enter a liminal space

The present moment is vast

And peaceful

Such peace

I walk to enjoy

I walk to learn

I walk to explore

I walk myself back to health and wellbeing

I walk on days I feel grief at the state of the world

I walk with despair and anger

And I walk with hope

I walk to ask 'what can I do'?

And I am taught lessons

Powerful ones

Some that must be shared and offered

Like delicate but direct gifts to you

And other lessons are secrets just for me on which to ponder

To wander and wonder

I walk to question

I walk to unlearn

I walk to feel free

I walk to see unfathomable horizons without another human or building or road

in sight

The cells of my body are soothed

These words came to me during the hibernatory wintry depths of January so I thought I would share them with you. The days are getting longer as we move towards Imbolc and so, as I start to emerge again from this dreamy state of rest and planning for year ahead, I wonder why do you walk? And how might I be able to support you to wander in a way that soothes the soul and invites calm, or to learn about new places and features, or perhaps to explore ancient stones or hear local myths and legends?

If you’ve been following me for a while, you’ll know that I have ME/CFS, Fibromyalgia, hypothryordism and am in peri-menopause so I walk in a way that is more experiential - noticing, enjoying and feeling our way through this extraordinary living, working landscape (rather than a fast route-march). If this appeals to you then please get in touch if you think I maybe able to help you too with similar or different concerns.