If it’s summertime and you decide to go for a walk, try and go with a child. That way the pacing is perfect and the realizations are lovely.
Our Walk, My Awakening
Sidewalks melt like abandoned popsicles into rivers of pavement and lakes of grass, all while my daughter Claire skips ahead, happy not to be tethered to her stroller, and completely uncaring that the path she errantly travels has no known destination.
I would do well to learn from her example. She travels slowly and stops to investigate every sound and scent that meets her inexperienced senses. The airplanes and birds that fly overhead don’t go unnoticed, the flowers we pass don’t go unseen or unsmelled.
She’s the perfect travel companion—not anxious for an agenda but excited for adventure. Her only concern is that we keep moving forward.
I hover close behind, watching her watch the world and doing my very best to see it like she sees it. It’s beautiful, she’s beautiful, and I’m happy to think she’s mine, to love and to shape (I just hope I don’t corrupt her natural greatness). I get to watch her grow and luckily, I get to re-experience this madness that we call life through her eyes—what a blessing.
*This post is obviously late in coming, but, I guess the saying is true, better late than never. Rather than forget the realizations I had when this walk took place, I thought I’d put them down on paper (or internet) as a way to remember, and as a way to say goodbye to summer.