Walking Defining Us – Day 202

Leaf cluster – Photo: L. Weikel

Walking Defining Us                                  

I gave myself permission today to sit with a book for about half an hour on our porch.

This afternoon, Karl and I managed to slog through the muck that was formerly known as our lawn, shearing it closely enough that – if we’re lucky and the sun shines tomorrow – it just might start to dry out. Of course, I say that, but then I checked the Weather Channel just now and see that there’s an 80% chance of thunderstorms over the next four hours.

It’s been relentless.

Dipping Into a New Book

But I began telling you about my chance to sit down to read for a few precious minutes once the lawn was mowed. I have to admit, it was idyllic. The late afternoon sun cast a golden-rosy glow on everything it touched and the wrens and robins were belting out their greatest hits.

Even though I’ve been reading and thoroughly enjoying another volume I know I’ll be talking to you about in the days and weeks to come, this afternoon I dipped into a book I mentioned several days ago: Walking – One Step at a Time * by the Norwegian author Erling Kagge.

Oh my, it is a delicious indulgence.

Clearly this author appreciates walking to a depth that can probably only be celebrated by others who also walk. OK, maybe others who walk and write (albeit not at the same time). That’s because reading his words simultaneously made my heart quicken with joy and my brain want to mark my page and set off on a long walk myself.

Defining Our Reality Through the Prism of Walking

To give you an example, just to start us out, he describes how walking is fundamental to distinguishing us (humans) from everyone else with whom we share the planet, and how walking took us away from the familiar and opened up entirely new vistas to us. The greatest vista, perhaps, is that of language, which captures the essence of culture.

I love what Kagge says on page 6:

“Human languages reflect the idea that life is one single, long walk. In Sanskrit, one of the world’s oldest languages, originating from India, the past tense is designated as the word gata, “that which we have walked,” and the future is anāgata, “that which we have not yet walked.” This word gata is related linguistically to the Norwegian word gått, meaning “walked.” In Sanskrit, the present is indicated by something as natural as “that which is directly in front of us,” pratyutpanna.”

I find the concept of defining our reality through the prism of walking, relating our concept of time to what we’ve already walked and that which we’ve yet to, both comforting and somehow, eerily, precisely correct.

Tohickon Creek, swollen with spring rainfall – Photo: L. Weikel

*affiliate link

(T-909)