Sometimes walking is what is left for us. Simply putting one foot in front of the other. Slowly. Methodologically. Without looking up. Or ahead. And sometimes letting the hair fall into our eyes, and forcing ourselves to feel it, without the need of brushing it away. Without complaint.
Sometimes that is enough.
The air that enters our nostrils goes up into our brains without mercy, and hits our conscience. It hits us hard. Have we ever let it happen? Have we ever consciously stopped in our busy lifestyles and smelled the air? Let it enter our bodies and hit us hard indeed. Hard as hell. Have we?
Ah, we are intrigued now.
So let’s continue walking. Walking through the fields, and the streets, and the parks, and the sidewalks and corrridors. Till our legs know the rhythm, and our hands embrace the cold. Till our faces smile against the ruthless wind. Till we stop looking ahead and instead focus on what is happening at this very moment. During our walk. Let us finally exit the field, the forest, the street and stop. For just a moment. Not because we do not know what to do next, but to admire the scenery. Admire the moment. We focus and we feel one tiny drop of rain landing on our left thumb and another on the right side of our noses. We look at the thumb and perhaps see it as an alien yet familiar part of our bodies. We lift it up and consider the wetness on it. Does it hurt? Does it shine? Does it taste? We rub it gently with our forefingers and stare at it. We lift it to our mouths and lick it. It is perfectly alright. So we let a smile form on our faces as we take a step forward. And another, and another.
The road becomes devious and unforgiving. It is tougher than what was promised. Some of us might stop and wish not to continue. But will definitely try again tomorrow. So the road wins.
Few of us, or maybe just one, goes on. The steps are harder, the pace is slower but she continues. She can see the road now, as clear as the day after the night. There is no finish line, there never was. There is just the walk.
And sometimes, perhaps today, that is enough.