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25 August 2012

Flaneuse

This week I walked with no other purpose but walking. I had not done this in a very long time. I usually have a walk in the morning but it gets justified with a purpose -- the bakery, or the post office, or walking with the youngest daughter to school. The other day I needed nothing, needed to do nothing, apart from walking. At first it felt strange: Where would I go? How would I know? As I walked, ideas came. One street beckoned, another didn't. One direction felt wrong, another right. I even walked down a street that I may have never walked down before, despite having lived in and around this neighbourhood for 15 years. It was a surprise achievement. But ultimately I was happy just to have been walking for the sake of walking. I don't think I can satisfactorily explain how liberating it feels. I think that I have broken through some kind of barrier, one that I didn't even know was there.


1 comment:

  1. Charles Dickens used to spend hours just walking around London. I do find that I think very well when I'm walking; just the action of moving forward is somehow inspiring. You're lucky to have a town to walk in, instead of the endless American half-rural suburb that surrounds my house.

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