I started walking, every morning, 9 years ago and haven’t stopped. Walking, for me, has been my way back to myself, a practice that brings me home.
This radically simple act, a morning walk, has become a daily ritual that has transformed my life. It began with a conscious decision to get outside, to enjoy all weather, be under all the stars, observe all the birds — to return to the essentials. Outdoors is where I find ideas, comfort, awe, creativity, wisdom, community — all of the elements that remind me of who I am, beyond titles and labels.
I am a believer that we have to make time, not find time, for the things that make us, us. The outdoors is essential to who I am, actually, I believe it’s essential to who we all are. In my case, life had become getting in cars, sitting in meetings, running errands, producing — and completing — to do lists. I came to realize that what made me…me, was no longer part of my days. Looking back, the feeling of being overwhelmed by errands, conference calls, shoulds, have-to’s, and endless expectations, had overtaken me. I had lost my footing, my grounding. I needed to get back to a bigger sense of purpose — beginning with a fundamental intimacy with the earth.
During this time of Shelter in Place, Social Distancing and a new world with Covid19, a quiet morning walk has been my essential nourishment: physical, emotional, creative, and even spiritual. It’s the first meal of my day.
Walking had become my medicine, long before we spoke of vaccines and viral envelopes.
I walk essentially the same loop every day. Out the front door, 5 am. I walk past the same barn. On the same path. Next to the same river. With the same headwind around that last turn. This conscious repetition is a form of meditation, designed with intentional familiarity. It’s almost as if I could do it blindfolded. Some days, on the backstretch, I close my eyes while walking for 10, 20, 30, 40 steps. Do I really know where I am? I wonder? Am I following my gut, my body, to the knowing of this moment? The mindlessness of the route itself brings mindfulness, because it is this walk that allows me to acknowledge and move the questions around in my mind, heart and body.
I start many walks with an intention or a question and by the end, I have escorted that intention, that question around the loop. We have made friends with each other. We have rumbled, we have danced and we have said goodbye. Many ideas change while I walk, sometimes with every step. By creating space for thoughts and feelings to rest, to become visible, I allow them to shift.
There is great power for me in actually moving. Holding an intention while walking and creating space for that intention to take shape is comforting and inspiring. Physically taking the feeling of worry for a walk, is healing. Walking with and idea always makes the idea richer. Walking is the place where I am true.
I started taking pictures on my walk, often snapping a photograph of the same dilapidated barn over and over again. This practice taught me to see again, not simply look. It forced me to see, really see, as if for the first time. I was amazed at how much I had overlooked. By looking at the same barn each day I was then able to see the time of day, the weather, the slightly different angle. What else had I missed all these years?
A walk makes me feel “Welcome to Right Now”. It reminds me to match my pace with the pace of the natural world.
At the end of the walk, I would post the picture on Instagram as a way to keep a record of each day. It wasn’t for anyone else, it was for me. A visual diary. A history. A way to remember that moment. A record of the unexpected snowstorm, the foggy sunrise, the lineup of ravens on the roof, the rain pouring off my hat brim. It was also a way to hold myself accountable.
This daily micro practice has informed life in ways I would never have expected. From new friendships (started by a simple comment on a photo) to collaborations with incredible makers and doers, and perhaps — most importantly — to a profound awareness of our connectedness. Now 9 years later we have a small group of people who “walk” together, even though they may be on the on the other side of the world. COVID19 has made this even more true. A simple walk, is the “new normal” luxury.
It has turned out that walk time is my most valuable processing time. When I identify an intention as I head out, it may be about trying to figure out a creative challenge at work, or a personal issue that I need space to understand. This moving meditation creates the space and pace I often need to understand a situation. Here I am in the place I am most comfortable, and I can allow my thoughts, my feelings, my brain to deconstruct and then reframe an issue. It turns the walk into both and escape and also a focused act.
It is the key to my operating system.
It is my act of radical self-care.
I have now circumnavigated the earth. Yes, in my own backyard, I have travelled 25,000 miles. The last 100 miles I celebrated the mileage by inviting a few friends to join me for a mini-parade each day. We would lite up sparklers and walk the route together, as a way to witness — and propose a metaphoric toast — to this big life journey we all share.
Good things always happen on a walk. And, I am always grateful, never sorry, when I get home from one. Today, my daily walk is a sacred act, the kindest gift I can give myself.
Suggestions for building a practice:
1. Begin with something doable. A walk around the neighborhood.
2. Repeat for 5 days. Repeat again. The next thing time will have passed and it will have been 9 years.
3. Stay curious about what is possible. Starting a practice and staying with it deepens what you observe about yourself and others.
Originally Published on Reasons To Be Cheerful May 2020
Libby DeLana is an award-winning executive creative director who has spent her career in the ad world. She started walking in 2011 and hasn’t missed a day since; as a result, she has walked the circumference of the earth. Her first published book is Do Walk: Navigate Earth, Mind and Body. Step by Step. You can connect with Libby on Instagram @parkhere or @thismorningwalk.