Today, I participated in the World Wide Wander. The idea of using walking as a mindful practice, wherever you are, clicked with me. I love to walk – although I ususally prefer going somewhere over taking a stroll. I find that meditation comes more easily to me when I use movements such as Yoga, or walking, to slow down and calm my mind. Therefore I was immediately intrigued when I read about this project.
The idea of Street Wisdom, though, is not so much about walking as meditation, but instead about asking a question and seeing what comes up in your environment when you allow yourself to be fully present. I joined one of the afternoon walkshops on Zoom and took a walk through my area. The guided walk starts off with a bit of chit chat and then a few prompts to help participants really tune in to their environment. As opposed to zoning out which I often do on my way somewhere, e.g. by not wearing glasses, but having earbuds plugged in and walking in a high pace. Because I need to get somewhere.
Instead, today, I just walk. I look. This pop of colour on that balcony is hot. Those cut-off raspberry bushes make me sad. The blue on those birds looks stunning. What does a tube driver think when they see someone looking down at them from a bridge? Look at her! What language was he speaking? Oooh, let’s go down that path!
And then: the question. I’ve been really impatient with my career non-shift lately. Hence, the question I took to the street was: What is the one thing, practice, or issue I should focus on in October to make real progress in my attempt to change career?
So I walk through this park across the street. First, I come by a pond. The waters look unhealthy, as if they haven’t moved for too long. But a flock of ducks swims around like nothing can bother them. I am bothered. I follow the small stream that gives our street its name. It carries almost no water. Obstacles made of stones and wood, probably built by some kids to dam the stream, now lie on dry sand banks, pointless. And a perfect mirror for my situation. Trying to control the energy, trying to hold on to some of it, when in reality, I have no energy left. Looking back to the pond I can see that if you stop the flow for too long, the system will eventually die.
Weirdly, my irritation facing the ecological situation there only holds for a second. It’s a cloudy day. The rain will come. The stream will grow. Soon the ducks will leave for their winter quartier. There is no need for me to worry or do something right now. Just stop trying so hard to control something that needs to flow freely.
A few metres on, maple seed falls down right in front of my face. Suddenly, a loud rush, coming from above. I can hear the rain dropping on leaves for a few seconds before the leaves become heavy enough to turn over and pour their contents on me. When I realise what’s happening, the shower is already over.
Then, something magical happens. As I continue my walk, still pondering what the “energy epiphany” means for my career change, I hear popping sounds from all around. Huge trees dropping their seeds. There are masses of acorns. A few last chestnuts. Beechnuts, and of course more maple seeds. The noise is incredible! Mother nature is throwing her riches at me as if to say: Girl! You did all the work. You bloomed on time. You provided for the tiny ones. You held the space. Now all you need to do is protect your head if you stand underneath an oak tree. My plan unfolds perfectly, whether you fuss about it or not. Don’t try to rush it. Don’t wait until everything rotts. Just tune in to the season, and everything will fall into place.
But also: Don’t let the stupid squirrels hide all the nuts! If you want some, pick ’em up!
And so I did.
