Why my walks are no longer a leggy march

Not sure if my walks have made me lighter or pushed down my blood sugar levels, but they have begun to add a lot of meaning to my existence. The long, solitary walks are such a pleasurable experience that I just can’t miss them even for a day.  Agreed since I had always preferred solitude to inane company but then the walks are indeed a world apart. I remember keeping my circle of friends limited on purpose so that I had fewer influencers to my decisions. That linearity of decision making process made it easy for me to readily own up their outcomes, both good and bad.  The buck just stopped with me and I love that.

I take the usual, boring route for my walk in this ever busy city. Staying bang in the middle of a city, I have no fallback to a quieter walking track.  Everywhere it is crowded and noisy.  Rather than getting used to it, I think the years of acquiescence have trained me to blank out the sights and drown the noises, at will.  No big deal that – I turn on the volume of my inner chatter and stay attentive to its machinations. The walk is no longer a leggy march, it becomes a sequential soliloquy or a series of well stringed Q&A. Way more funnier than having a friend to chat with.

The conversations begin and end with my conscious being as I delve deep into my grail. The observer, the listener and the talker in me is my own micro-conscious being, except that it becomes the macro during these walks.  That’s how all things around me vanish, all sounds get drowned.  The experience is bliss, for want of a better word.  But there is one problem, I fail to pick up from where I had left off the previous day.  So I thought I should pen them to keep track and here I go with my post # 1.

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