I hate walkingCome for a walk he said. I know just the spot he said – out of the wind.

What he failed to take into account were the acres and acres of mud we’d be required to squelch through. I was not happy!

Sunday’s hike took a total of 2 hours and after it I was knackered. I am in “training” for a walking holiday in the Lake District in July.

I need to be fit enough to walk a minimum of 5 hours a day for 6 consecutive days and, considering Sunday’s performance it’s easy to see why I’m already deeply regretting signing up.

It felt the right thing to do when I applied at the beginning of the year. A different way to explore the Unfolding Path both figuratively and literally! Less analysis. A chance to bypass my thinking mind and connect more deeply via the movement of my body, the natural landscape and poetry.

That bit still appeals but I’m making a real song and dance out of the physical preparations. I hate walking! At least I think I do before I set out and when I’m cold and tired and squelching through mud.

I see it as something I’m making myself do. Something I should enjoy but I don’t. I spend much of my time clock watching and waiting for it to be over.


But here’s the thing.

It’s not the walking itself I hate. It’s the feeling of being compelled, of being forced to do something against my will. But who is this bully? Who is this task master who makes me go walking? And why does the one who doesn’t want to go, go anyway?

Well . . . the one who goes anyway wants to enjoy the holiday. Wants to hang out with the other people in the group without feeling knackered. Wants to be able to keep up with and enjoy their company.

So which one do I listen to? The me that seems to be forcing me to go walking or the me that does the walking because she wants a positive result?

Have you worked it out yet?

So far I’ve been listening to both which, not surprisingly, produces a lot of tension. However, below each of these “me’s” is the enduring ‘forever at peace’ me. The one who can’t be coerced, who has no opinion about mud, being cold or feeling knackered. The one who just is.

So . . . here’s what’s going to happen. Whenever I feel a sense of being forced to go walking, I’m going to simply let the thoughts and feelings be. And instead of trying to rationalise why I’m doing the training, so as to make myself feel better, I’ll turn my attention to the ever present, but not always felt, “forever at peace” me.

Let’s see how that goes!

25 of 366 book bits