Fieldnote: Walking the Walk
I feel fortunate to live somewhere that invites walking.
Not every place does.
Some places are highways and parking lots and chains and stoplights. Some places are built for rushing through, not noticing. Some places forget that humans were meant to move slowly sometimes.
But here, on the Outer Banks, Roanoke Island, Manteo, NC, there are marinas and trails and bike paths.
There are beaches and little town streets with shops and old houses and people sitting outside with coffee.
There are roads where you can hear birds before traffic.
There are places where you can walk past horses, goats, marsh grass, fishing boats, old cemeteries, little libraries, docks, and gardens.
There are places where history still feels alive.
There are places where life feels close enough to touch.
Walking has become one of the most important parts of my life.
And I’ve introduced it, normalized it, for my older children, inviting them to break from the screen and take themselves for a walk.
It is movement, but it is also meditation.
It is where I listen to music, podcasts, audiobooks, and poetry.
It is where I think.
It is where I stop thinking.
It is where I work out problems without trying so hard to solve them.
It is where I remember who I am when life gets loud.
Some walks are for exercise.
Some are for grief.
Some are for boredom.
Some are for joy.
Some are just because the weather is too beautiful to waste.
I have walked in tears.
I have walked in anger.
I have walked with dogs and children and headphones and silence.
I have walked until I felt my body again.
Walking is one of the healthiest things I know.
Not just for the body, but for the mind and spirit too.
It gives us somewhere to put our feelings.
It gives us motion when we feel stuck.
It reminds us that even if life feels hard, we can still move forward one step at a time.
Sometimes I think one of the greatest blessings in my life is that I live somewhere that allows me to walk the walk.
And sometimes that is enough.
