I love walking. Sometimes I walk so far and for so long that my feet hurt. When I walk I think clearly…or perhaps I dream clearly. Who knows.
Walking is the temporal resolution to my existential crisis. I walk to find myself, because it is precisely in discomfort and struggle that one builds character.
On a recent jaunt during my lunch break I noticed a lonely earthworm twisting desperately in the hot pavement. I thought about evolution, about survival of the fittest, about the struggle. But mostly, I thought about the unfortunate parallel between this unlucky member of the animal kingdom and all the souls around me that live in darkness for the entirety of their lives and come to find out, too late, that there is dimensionality to the world; that there is so much more out there in the world to love, to admire, to feel entranced about, and they missed it, because they were too busy staring at their tiny plot of land, at their large houses, their fancy cars, and far too busy staring at themselves.
Although I felt sad for the tiny creature, I also felt a sense of peace, for he, or she, was glancing at the eternal and concluding its existence with perhaps the most vivid and unique experience of its life. Its deathbed, to me, was just a sidewalk, but to the earthworm it was Europe, it was Asia, it was the edge of the Sahara, no different than all the places where we go to find none other than ourselves.
Keep walking, my friends.