Movement is life. The ways to move are countless. You can stretch, sway, dance, get athletic — or walk.
There are many kinds of walks. One of the most enjoyable is a nature walk where you take in the world around you with all your senses, being attuned to the wonders and beauty of nature.
Walking with your grief can bring solace as well as deep feelings that are better experienced than pent up inside. It can also be a reverie of memories of your loved one you want to revisit.
Walking can be a metaphor for going forward in your life. A moment in time. One step at a time.
I took a walk, came home, and wrote a poem. Something about the cloudy sky and sprinkles of rain awakened deep feelings.
Walking In My Shoes
Walk in someone’s shoes to understand them…
Their Journey, losses, pain.
The shoes I choose are my own.
They are old, weathered, loose, run down.
I walked in them with him
a month ago before death came.
His were slippers.
The path our living room
three times round.
He stopped to rest.
Our last walk.
Now spring, flower laden paths nearby
calling me to breathe a new life.
I cannot traverse those paths yet.
They lead beyond my memories.
If I keep memories tight
he is still here.
I must walk alone
holding memory.
I will walk in my own yard
in my own shoes.
Only my feet fit inside.
I cannot share these shoes.
Let me feel the truth
of my loneliness in this walk.
Let me taste the salt of tear rivers
the scent of air he never inhaled.
Let me put one foot in front of the other
even if I fall.
I am an acrobat on a balance beam
way up above ground.
My fear is flailing failing, falling.
I am a tiny terrified child.
How can I protect that child?
My feet are back on the ground.
I feel that child in my heart.
My feet stumble
as I walk my truth
while reaching for my fantasies.
I want what I had.
But his shoes walked away
while mine stayed home.
He planted the roses.
They bloomed big this spring.
I embrace the reddest rose
my shoes muddy from the dirt
my fingers scratched from the rose thorns.
My shoes lead me away
back into our empty home.
Wonder if I need new shoes.
Maybe another day
I will clean these old ones
gently carefully.
I am tired.
It was a hard walk.