Went for a slow walk. Actually, I’ve almost forgotten how to walk fast. Me and my family have been in training to revert to the way we humans are supposed to move, in sync with the ground, rather than opposing it with every step. Tommy Olausson of Runfeeling have been helping us. It’s a process of unlearning the old ways of attacking the ground, and learning a new way, the way of the child actually, forgotten since years and years.
And I’ve been practicing. I’ve added a few of the calf-strengthening exercises to my daily Seven-routine. And I try to walk very deliberately, trying to avoid stomping around, and rather meeting the ground gently. As I’ve become more and more aware of how hurtful it is for my body to stomp around, my walking pace has slowed down.
Yesterday I had to walk a bit faster to avoid getting late for a ferry ride, and it’s like I’ve forgotten how to do it. I guess the reason is mostly because I haven’t learned the skill of gentle walking fully yet, and when I’ve got that down, I’ll be better able to up my tempo while still meeting the ground without jolting all the joints of my body. But so far, if I need to walk faster, it’s very easy to go back to my old way of walking, heel hard on the ground. Cushioned by sneakers, enabling me to continue battering my joints, step by step.But here’s a tip: Put your fingers in your ears, blocking outside sound. And then walk. Normal. I promise you’ll get a shock from hearing the jolt when your heel hits the ground! Then try to walk without making any internal sound. And then call Tommy, to make sure you learn properly!
Anyway, returning to the slow walk of the evening. I stopped to take a photo of the long grass with wild blooming flowers, and heard the birds singing as well. Stood still, closed my eyes, and just took it all in. The sounds. The smell. The faint breeze against my cheeks.
As I am slowing down to the speed of life, I notice more both within me, and outside me. And as I notice more, I enjoy life more than before. It get’s richer, fuller, more vibrant.
When did you last feel the breeze against your cheeks?