On Living, is a new at home series focused on magnifying the small parts of our lives that don’t often cross our mind.
Walking, unlike running, is not a test of mental strength. It is the way we carry, the most natural form of being.
We never talk about walking, like we do with running. We don’t focus on the way in which we breathe, the way we fight our lungs for more air. The way oxygen is squeezed out of your body, leaving you breathing heavily, blood rushing. We don’t focus on the way we move our legs, one before the other. On how the balls of our feet bend, and touch the floor, the way our toes curl outward, and land after each pounding.
Walking is a slow, almost undetectable way of movement. Theres often times no burn in our thighs, no aching in our waist, no tightness in our calves. We don’t think to stretch out our quads, to feel the deep, painful pull at each expanse. We simply just go on, as if walking wasn’t a form of movement in itself.
Walking, is a remedy. To ask ourselves to breathe more, to slow down, to give permission to not have to fight your brain, your stamina, your body. To just be.
In times like this, when being outside becomes a luxury, when the sun becomes a luxury, when space becomes extravagant, we can only focus on being. Focus on the act of walking. Focus on all the things to keep us moving, that allow us to move. We don't need to strive to live this full schedule that we’ve come to known and had to forget, for now. We can now concentrate on each stride, each toe-curling, ball-of-feet-touching-the-floor feeling. Focus on the wonders of our body, the way we move, despite space, despite people, despite freedom. We can still focus on feeling alive.