PREVIEW POST: THE WONDER OF WALKING

I watched the new movie Julia and Julie this weekend and was inspired by Julie Powell's blog project. (Go see the movie: Meryl Streep does an astonishing job as Julia Child.) And then I remembered a Friends episode where Ross makes a New Year's resolution to try one new thing each day. (Remember the leather pants?) So, inspired by Julie and Ross, I have decided to try one new thing every day and blog about it at least five times a week. The new thing can be anything from a new recipe, restaurant, acquaintance, book, idea, observation, activity . . . you get the idea.

So here is my first blog about the new thing I did today. It is my intention to set up a separate blog, connected with my under-construction website, www.lisameadowsgarfield.com, but I wanted to alert all of you, our faithful travel companions, so you can follow along with me as I continue to explore the world.


THE WONDER OF WALKING

My grandson, Nate, just learned to walk. He took his first tentative steps in Mongolia, in the living room of his other grandparents, while we cheered and clapped at each step. Now, a couple of weeks later, he just stands up and heads across the room on two feet before he realizes he's actually walking. Of course, as soon as he realizes he's upright, he gets startled and drops to his knees to continue the journey. But every day he takes a few more steps. He wobbles and falls regularly. What amazes me is his undeterred spirit, his determination to keep trying until he gets it.

Today I took my first Tai Chi class at the gym. I watched the old-timers go through the forms with grace and perfect memory. I tried to copy their movements, but my muscles have no memory of all those waving arms and rocking feet. The teacher had us walk around the room at our normal pace. Happily, I proved quite adept at walking. At least at my normal speed. She then had us slow to half-speed and it suddenly got more difficult to walk. My balance was off. My feet couldn't quite get the exact sequence of movement, heel-toe-heel-toe. I thought of Nate. I felt like Nate. When the teacher had us walk slower still, everything in me stilled as I concentrated on the wonder of walking. Such a complicated movement! It took all my attention to walk with any grace at all.

Attention was precisely the point, of course. When we pay attention to even the simplest, most routine things in our lives, we suddenly realize how marvelous it all is. With beginner's mind, in slow mode, we remember that Nate-like determination to master a new skill, the hope and pure joy of discovery. Try walking very slowly. Pay attention. You'll know what I mean.