Wonderful Walk
I just had a tremendous walk.
It’s in the walking where my best thinking occurs. Although I’m inclined to point out that I don’t trust that any of my thinking is particularly superb. Better yet, I would point out again that terms like “best,” “better,” or “superb” are merely gradations of a subjective and undefinable indicator of a thing’s appeal to my physical form. So I guess I am ultimately more truthful in saying that I just enjoy the kinds of thinking that occur while I am walking.
There is snow everywhere here in Colorado. The streets are relatively clear, but the sidewalks are covered to varying degrees with all kinds of snow. Dirty snow. Clean snow. Trampled snow. Pristine snow on which no one has yet stepped. The snow prolonged my walk to the place where I buy cigarettes by maybe fifteen minutes either way, making the effort about an hour and a half in total. I welcomed the bit of struggle introduced to my footsteps as novelty. I remember a few months ago how much I enjoyed walking over the same ground as it was heated by a summer sun, with my shirt off so that my back could absorb the light, and with my shoes off so that my feet could get accustomed to contact with the very floor of this earthly space I occupy. It suffices to say that walking barefoot today would be insanity.
The market was full of beautiful people preparing themselves for this communal event tomorrow that America shares each year. I am opposed to professional sports and find them wasteful, and given the option, I do not partake in the festivities. I like the idea that so many people will be together with friends and family and loved ones tomorrow though, sharing space and air and food and excitement. It makes me happy that others will be happy. There was a sense of giddiness in the store. There had apparently been a rush on the avocados and salsa.
I feel at once connected to and disconnected from the whole of humanity. War rages on, and a new war approaches, and for this I am tremendously sad. It is difficult for me to remove the plight of the world from my mind sometimes, and it is more difficult for me to look at my own life contrasted to the lives of people where violence is plentiful and food is in short supply. I have too much. I hope that the game tomorrow doesn’t distract people in America so much that they won’t recall that, while they’ve been afforded a respite from turmoil and war in most cases, that turmoil and war still exist and deserve, if nothing else, the mental attention of all of humanity.
Happiness is a fleeting thing, I think. But peace, both in one’s spirit and in the world at large, can become a thing of permanence if one is open to it’s novelty.
I am thinking of peace and love and wishing it for everyone.
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