The Magic of Walking

I walk every day. It sounds silly to say, but isn’t, because many people just drive everywhere now. And when I walk it’s an opportunity to exercise, to process, to create, to let go. Sometimes I sing. Mostly I just recharge all the good things in me. When we exercise we are re-balance ourselves. We are detoxing. We find peace. It can be quiet or social. It can be rural or cosmopolitan. Ask yourself what you can do without getting into a car. Let’s slow down and make contact. With nature and each other. Let’s make the time.


We have all been there. Shocked at what someone said or did. So shocked in fact that we didn’t say or do anything about it.  It’s possible that this is a survival mechanism, but it is more likely to be a product of our socialization. We learn about little white lies from our own families. Lets not say anything about Dad being an alcoholic or how we really feel about ourselves. And you learn its not o.k. to speak the truth. And later, if someone else does, it’s very uncomfortable. All these suppressed emotions cause us harm. Our health, both mental and physical suffers because we keep things inside. Words need to be spoken out loud and our actions need to reflect them. I remember travelling in Nicaragua. I met a single mother there who was devastated by her reality. She wanted me to come back to Canada and tell everyone what was happening there. That the government was only giving one bag of beans and rice to each family a month. That the men had no legal responsibility to provide for their children. That there was no work. How could I possibly explain to her that we had our own problems such as debt and mortgages and car payments and dwindling industry. That we too suffer too from emotional bankruptcy. It just looks different.

the Greatest Mystery

Mystery is in all things.  We never truly know anyone. Nor do we ever truly know ourselves.   We don’t  know the truth about what is happening around us and we don’t even know if there is an actual truth.   Perhaps there is more beauty in life in the not knowing, than the knowing. “But I need to understand why, ” you say.  And this is true for the most awful things. We do need to understand the whys of why someone would hurt us so we can put them into a conceptual construct with a beginning, a middle and end. Without the ending, we can not put these stories away in our long term memory. And until we do this, our nervous system will never fully relax. We remain in defence mode, distrusting.  For the beautiful things in life, we need only beginnings and middles, and our imagination can take care of the rest.