Long ago, I read a book by Bruce Chatwin, called The Songlines. In it, he conveyed the raw reality of life lived in the outback as he explored the Aboriginal culture and how the people connected to the land and to their own existence through walking, singing, and storytelling.
I was in my early twenties when I read this book and to this day I can feel the heat and dust of the Australian outback, the flies buzzing around, and see the aboriginal peoples heading out across the vast, mysterious landscapes of Australia without maps or tools; with only the songs and stories of their ancestors to guide them.
I don’t remember the story exactly but I do know that my heart beats differently because of it.
In another of his books, What Am I Doing Here? Chatwin writes, “Man’s real home is not a house, but the road and that life itself is a journey to be walked on foot.”
The idea of walking and being on the road that Chatwin writes about in his books resonates with me profoundly. At times it feels as if I came here just to walk and feel the earth beneath my feet.
Much of my life has been spent traveling this way. I’ve walked on dirt roads, country lanes, and avenues only seen by pigeons, along shorelines, wharfs, arroyos, rocky ridges, through mines, caves, volcanoes and even in ditches, over paths, highways, and of course innumerable bridges. My heart opening and adjusting its beat and rhythm with each walk, helping me to find my way around the mystery of each place.
That’s how I was growing and learning as I navigated my life until the rivers and streams of New Mexico woke me to their impenetrable wisdom. The flow of life evident in every river bend and each shimmering, pulsing wave on the surface of every stream.
I noticed that my heart would flutter and sing as my feet ambled to the water’s edge. Ripples of joy spilling out of me touching the ripples of river life. Songs of praise would start bubbling – not words per se but the lusciousness of feeling awe and praise.
Rivers and roads, walking, swimming, moving open pathways for experiencing every kind of happiness that I can imagine. These roads and rivers connect me to what I imagine it must feel like to be G-D.
I, further imagine, the pathways that exist in my body, in my brain, and in my consciousness. How I can journey at light speeds along the synapses and nerves. How perhaps, I can experience G-D within my blood, in my veins, and in the beat of my own heart as I walk the landscapes within me.
I invite you to walk, to take the road or the river, some easy, some not. Find the opening to your heart and feel the rise of the G-D vibration in your own body and mind.
What would that feel like for you? What do you experience on your walks? Does the idea of raising your vibration through walking excite you?
I leave you with the words of Bruce Chatwin, “I haven’t got any special religion this morning. My God is the God of Walkers. If you walk hard enough, you probably don’t need any other god.”