Walking home

What people forget is a journey to nowhere

starts with a single step, too.

Chuck Palahniuk

Yesterday, I started a new habit. Walking home from work.

I've wanted to do it since we moved into this neighbourhood in January. I haven't done it because.... well mostly because my car is always in the garage in the morning and walking is forgotten in the haste of rushing into my day to get it going.

This week, however, my friend BA has my car and I am footloose and fancy free to walk where ever I want. What a gift!

C.C. dropped me in the morning at the corner across the river from my building. The five minute walk across the river was enough to get my 'juices' flowing, to kickstart my mind and to fill me with anticipation for the day ahead.

After work, I stayed strong and didn't take up my daughter's offer of a ride home. It's only a half hour walk, why do I need to drive?

I'd forgotten how much I love walking home after work. Forgotten how relaxing it is to journey homeward slowly, rather than fighting traffic.

When I lived in Vancouver, I walked home after work every day. I'd take the fifteen minute Seabus ride from downtown to the North Shore and walk the twenty-minutes up the hill home. In that half hour+ the vestiges of the day fell away.

And that's how I felt last night by the time I got home. The day had fallen away, fallen off along the pathway along the river, over the bridge and up the stairway to the top of the escarpment. Sun danced upon the waters, on the rustling leaves, the flowers in bloom. Sun and warmth and air. It was lovely.

New Zealand writer, Katherine Mansfield wrote, “Life never becomes a habit to me. It's always a marvel.”

Yesterday, walking home, I realized what a habit it had become for me to drive to work, drive home -- without really thinking about what I was doing. In that habit, I had lost some of the marvel of living in the moment, taking my time to get from point A to point B.

Driving home, my day comes with me. Walking home I am reminded that I have the choice in how I journey -- getting to where I'm going is not the point. Enjoying the journey is.

Walking home, my day falls away as I sink into the joy of finding myself where ever I'm at, marveling in the world around me -- and building a habit worth living. Letting my mind ease away from what must be done, into thankfulness for what has been done, I find my joy in the peacefulness of being right where I'm at, slowly walking away from my day at work, into my evening at home doing what I will to live the life of my dreams.

The question is: Where are you so focused on getting from point A to B every day that you forget to stop, take a breath and enjoy the journey? Where does the end become your destination and the journey become the daily grind?