I will walk no matter what the weather. To be outside is to be alive. Even buffeted by cold winds and rain, the air
forcing its way into our lungs works its magic.
Cleansing out the rheum, blowing the mind free of box-like worries. Allowing the eye to focus out there on the
horizon not on empty walls and this fake life.
As you pace the steps that take you to freedom, your back
straightens. With each step you remember
an ancient rhythm. Finding a solace in
the slap of earthy ground underfoot. The
beauty of nature pierces the fog of delusion.
You are struck by the redness of that berry, the crisp leaf somersaulting
in happy abandonment.
Slowly the dross is cleansed and polished from off your
heart. You are
reminded of what this life is for.
Recollecting who you are, touching base with all the memories of life so
far. Being grateful for precious souls
that have brought love to your heart.
Knowing they inspire you still. Then
all this shaking and buffeting throws the cobwebs of your vain imaginations and
at last a tiny awareness of real life emerges.
