Our doubts are traitors,
And make us lose the good we oft might win
By fearing to attempt. ~Measure for Measure, I.iv
And make us lose the good we oft might win
By fearing to attempt. ~Measure for Measure, I.iv
The other morning, I finally watched Man on Wire, the documentary about the man who tight rope Walked between The Twin Towers back in the 70's.
Phillipe Petit's fearlessness (and arguably, insanity) reminds me that we can make an adventure out of living . . . out of Walking. Simply Walking! How often we forget our privilege, this luxury, the ability to make music with our legs.After finishing the documentary, I Walked to Camel Back Park to meet some friends to play guitar and Sing. After a short time, a couple parked their bicycles in the arbor near our tree and set up a tight rope.
I ran up to them and said hello --Ocean and Merritt were just wire-Walking for fun, and only one of them had heard about Phillipe Petit.
Ocean: Do you wanna try it?
Me: Do you have any tips on how to start?
Ocean: Nope.
So I leaped up. Of course I fell immediately, but in the attempt, suspension, and falling--and in this strange coincidence--- was a greater understanding of the importance and necessity of Walking.
I think that I cannot preserve my health and spirits unless I spend four hours a day at least — and it is commonly more than that — sauntering through the woods and over the hills and fields absoutely free from all wordly engagements. - Thoreau, Walking
I live 2.5 miles out of town (4 kilometers), half way out towards the remote and rocky ISF performance site, where the "City of Trees" turns into desert. Living here means I enjoy 75 minutes a day Walking where I need or want to go. For at least 75 minutes I experience the effort of motion and living . . . in 75 minutes I contemplate the oft-abused luxury of motor vehicles.
Yet, I am more grateful than ever for the plane I took to Cuzco, the bus to Lima, and the taxis to various terminals. I am aware of my carbon footprint, and I thank these engines for helping me to better use my feet. I thank my feet for reminding me I don't need a car and for teaching me to understand (like Phillipe Petite) the lengths and heights of trails I can blaze on my own.
Since my own adventure Walking the Inca Trail last month, and since being forced to Walk everywhere in Boise, I have the courage to imagine that I could walk almost anywhere and that I can live out my own dreams--mine perhaps less life threatening than wire Walking, but perhaps almost as crazy.
To put teaching, acting, writing, and loving in a handkerchief and hit the road . . . To vow never to lead a life making money behind a desk? To win good for the world? How? I am not immediately sure. How does not yet concern me because coincidences such as my encounter with Merritt and Ocean affirm I am en route to the next adventure that will lead to all these passions. In the last two weeks, I've been having numerous bouts of coincidence--of double vision. Am I in Cuzco or Boise? I know now that I never really leave anything or anywhere--each experience and place is as present as each footstep.
Afoot, I make my way, write my story. The treks and trails I take throughout the day map out the larger picture. I am grateful for the opportunity to breathe, step, and see double all around me. This blurry mystery is, in the words of Olivia: "Most wonderful!"
I don't doubt I could have walked over the Panama Canal drawbridge into South America instead of flying. Perhaps I will someday, testing how far I can go and wind-- never sitting still or seeing straight. But flying does allow us to economize our time so that we may spend it savoring--in the same way Thoreau and Emerson relished Walking in their back yards. Traveling farther --responsibly, consciously--encourages dreaming.
Do not worry if you have built your castles in the air. They are where
they should be. Now put the foundations under them.
they should be. Now put the foundations under them.
And laying the foundation is easy; notes intuitively come to support the double vision of a song. Like the Via Alpina--ahhhh..... a dream and not a destination, nor a final note-- not even my NEXT note or step, but for certain it will be one of many Walking refrains to come. As for now, I learn to see, sing, and Walk my line.
