Late last spring, I embarked on a new tradition. I stumbled
over it by accident. I started taking a 30-minute walk every day. I wrote about
that experience here.
I felt all kinds of benefits from the walk. I meandered.
Except for the 30-minute part, I had no agenda. I took photographs. I
invariably felt refreshed. I continued
more or less consistently. I wrote another post
about it last July.
This kind of stroll might be my version of meditation.
I thought I was going to keep doing this. I imagined the
benefits of the 30 minutes a day building upon one another. I imagined writing
about my experience in the fall and then the winter.
That is not what happened.
What happened instead was that I'd go out for my walk and
enjoy it very much at the time. But sometimes, before and after the walk, I'd
feel stressed out. I wasn't stressed out about other things then found later
that taking the walk was worth it. The stress was about the walk itself.
The walk was becoming another obligation. The walk was
becoming a nag.
One thing I value about myself is my consistency. For that
reason, it was difficult initially to switch gears. One of the drawbacks to
making blanket proclamations and plans is that it can lead to rigid behaviors.
I started to see the writing on the wall.
Oftentimes, we make plans before all of the information is
in. Sometimes we don't acknowledge when things have changed. Commitments made
during one period of life may not work for another. That is what happened to
me.
I gave myself permission not to go for a walk for 30 minutes
a day. That was a start.
While out for a run or folding laundry, I thought about the
walks I was taking. That is when I do some of my best thinking. More
information trickled in.
The 30-minute walks were ideal for some days and not for
others. This is not an all or nothing situation. It has nuances.
Going out for a 30 minute walk makes sense when I am doing
the type of work that benefits from a break. Certain types of paperwork,
organizing and unpacking, research, cleaning house and repetitive tasks done
over a long period of time and keep me housebound are obvious things. Days
where my schedule is flexible enough and not interrupted by outside forces are
also welcoming to this walking experience.
Days where I spend a great deal of time out of my apartment
do not make the most sense in terms of the 30 minute walk. Nor do days where
interruptions are built in. Days where every moment is accounted for means that
the walk may cause more stress than it alleviates.
There are days when my teenagers are around and need a great
deal of interface from me. Sometimes the walk is not practical. Other times
it's an excellent idea. It gives me a break. It gives them a break.
Finally, there are the kinds of days where creativity and
very pleasurable work is the actual order of the day. The walk is not really
needed the same way on those days. Those times I set aside for blogging, making
collages or photography are examples of this. These activities are already akin
to meditative experiences for me.
This change of plans may seem like a small thing. It is in
fact a small thing when stacked up against more important stuff. But my being
able to switch gears with this has other implications. Making distinctions
between good walk days and bad walk days is great practice for sorting out
matters of much larger consequence.
Sunday was a good day for a 30-minute walk.
I was doing a lot of scheduling, school paper signing,
organizing and filing. There was minutia. There was banality. And while
everything was timely, I had a bit of flexibility in terms of my time.
I used the 30-minute walk as both a break and a reward. I
set out at the designated time. I made sure to pack an umbrella because the sky
was getting dark and it was windy. Rain seemed imminent.
Barring a thunderstorm, I planned to stay the course.
This might not seem like a good time for a walk. For me it
was ideal.
For one thing, I've noticed that people are very adverse to
rain. They will go right inside once it starts looking dark and foreboding. I
found the streets to be nearly empty. Not only did this make my walk more
peaceful, but also I had fewer folks to worry about when taking some of the
weirder photographs I do.
Once it started to sprinkle people started running in a
frantic attempt to go inside before more water hit them. There was screaming
and flailing. There was wrestling with umbrellas.
The rain began while I was in a lush garden. I positioned
myself under some trees and saw some interesting stuff to photograph. Sometimes
I used my umbrella propped up on some branches or the ground to keep my iPhone
dry so I wouldn't have to worry about it.
I took a video of raindrops hitting a marble bench and
making an interesting dot pattern, but it was a little too boring for anyone
but me, so I deleted it.
It never became torrential and it reduced to a steady, misty
drizzle. I dispensed with the umbrella and walked out on the sidewalk. The flowerbeds
were very interesting.
I'm going to let you in on a little secret about rain. It
can be good for photography.
I'm not referring to stormy situations. I am not talking
about high winds. I am not talking about weather-advisory thunder and
lightning.
I am talking about a lazy drizzle.
When there's a lazy drizzle it is highly uncomfortable for
most people. But it is fine for me. It might be okay for you too. If I were
putting out a singles ad, I could honestly that I enjoy long walks in the rain.
I have already mentioned that this alone is a good thing for photography. Less
people mean fewer headaches.
Cloudy skies almost always accompany rain. This gives you a nice,
even light. This isn't the time to get all experimental with shadows. There
won't be many. But you can explore a softer look.
The wetness has a lacquer like effect when it lands on
things. That shine, plus the soft even light makes colors pop. It's like the
palette is on steroids.
While rain gives a nice jolt to colors that are already
intense, it does something equally interesting to more muted hues. Mauve,
silver - grey, olive green, terra cotta and taupe look decidedly richer.
Things become dotted and splattered in a way that I like.
The video I took may have been boring. But I loved what the rain did to this
leaf.
When it's raining, the differences between what is light and
what is dark can be intensified. Case in point: the dirt in this flowerbed
became darker and blacker when wet, while the dead stems remained light in
color. This is a lovely edition to an ongoing series called Past Their Prime.
It also reminds me of a scratchboard.
I worked to capture an image that is the essence of wet.
After several attempts, the rain and I came up with this.
Moving forward, I anticipate taking more 30 minute walks -
some of the time. I'll move through the crisp autumn days a half hour here and
there and slog through snow the same way. There are times to be disciplined
about something. There are times not to be. Today I'll be talking about a walk
outdoors. Tomorrow it will be something bigger.
You my also enjoy:
I like the art here and elsewhere on your blog ( mixed m collage).. Yours?
ReplyDeleteEmily - yes! Thanks so much! All of the collage and photography are mine.
Delete