Being, the act of doing nothing, is horrifying. Thankfully there is walking. Walking is a splendid act of faith. The bare practice of walking illuminates the visceral tones of action and movement-the basis of the unknowable, which is experienced through being in a body. Placing a foot on a surface presumably stable enough to launch forward from, to transfer the privilege of the support of the body from one side to the other, in a continual back and forth act, walking becomes a simultaneous free-fall, moving through a multi-dimensional space.
I was watching a ski technique video yesterday thrusting forth the notion that for gnarly terrain we must resist the urge to slow our approach but rather we should instead sharpen our focus and forge ahead with confidence. I know the embodied 'feeling' of this crude suggestion on the slopes quite well which also applies to all other aspects of life in more ways than just upright free-falling through multi-dimensional space.
When hiking, I find a similar opportunity to focus and move consciously when coming down steep scree littered trails. The hike up, I'll often go swiftly for fitness, the hike down, the same but for pleasure. Focused free-falling on the hike down on unstable rock surfaces as quickly as I can is the closest I've come to 'skiing' during the summer. Hesitate or be too distracted by the headaches of your day and those rocks won't hesitate to penetrate the skin suit.
As much as I enjoy my daily walks to the coffee shop (I'm there now), I hear you on the nighttime walks. My 1am bouts of discontent necessitating a blast of arctic freeze for my lungs are something special ... though doing so alone still feels incomplete.
Walking at Night
Your face makes contours of the darkness, then your face appears,
slowly, once I know where to look for it.
So I keep going back to that room far away, though I don’t know what to make of its distance, since that distance stays with me. I know
Where it is, each time seeking
one more clue to bring the distance closer to me, to give me a reason
to seek it again.
Earlier in the day, the sun came hard,
Unimpeded. Now snow falls
almost horizontal, the only light
comes from the bed lamp
next to your recorder. You rewind
the tape and play it again:
“Eso es suficiente?”
“No,” responde la madre. “No.”
There’s just enough to understand
to keep listening. The story plays back
a bit differently each time.
Now the part about how the whole operation is illegal: $7,000, eight days,
walking at night, to cross the border
Tonight I will go to bed through
the bottom of your dresser drawers.
Closing the slightest gaps
is the art of loving as well as translation, and in either case
one has to know more
than just what the words mean.
In between the poles of opposition
is where symmetry begins, where
I extend myself into a space that fits
perfectly within my eyes at the distance
from which I see it. I think I’ll move
a little closer
Closer to the light,
Closer to those Spanish voices
on their way to translation.
The questions keep coming:
“Por el periodico?” “Por la television?”
“Como el centro? Y las Iglesias?”
Her children laugh in the background
as the mother begins explaining again.
The tape runs out. What to do now? you think without saying aloud,
remaining quiet like the snow falling
in the wire-linked darkness.
-David Overbey, February 2002
Walking at Night 🌚
I was watching a ski technique video yesterday thrusting forth the notion that for gnarly terrain we must resist the urge to slow our approach but rather we should instead sharpen our focus and forge ahead with confidence. I know the embodied 'feeling' of this crude suggestion on the slopes quite well which also applies to all other aspects of life in more ways than just upright free-falling through multi-dimensional space.
When hiking, I find a similar opportunity to focus and move consciously when coming down steep scree littered trails. The hike up, I'll often go swiftly for fitness, the hike down, the same but for pleasure. Focused free-falling on the hike down on unstable rock surfaces as quickly as I can is the closest I've come to 'skiing' during the summer. Hesitate or be too distracted by the headaches of your day and those rocks won't hesitate to penetrate the skin suit.
As much as I enjoy my daily walks to the coffee shop (I'm there now), I hear you on the nighttime walks. My 1am bouts of discontent necessitating a blast of arctic freeze for my lungs are something special ... though doing so alone still feels incomplete.
... to walking 🥂
True words always current
The outdoor photographer is an endurance walker. The most beautiful combination of the Spiritual and the Watchful Eye.
Human beings (homo erectus) have been walking and thinking since the dawn of time.
Pilgrimages such as on the way to Santiago de Compostela are shining examples.