Out walking. That’s a good note to put on your front door when one is not home. Out walking. It says so much while saying so little. It says more than a thousand likes or tweets or news updates. It says it all.
Out walking. It conjures a man or woman walking alone, deliberately, getting away from domestic routines, seeking peace of mind, fresh air and exercise through the simple act of walking. It is almost as if these two words were an act of civil disobedience, as if they imply a message that my time, my choice, is more important than following or obeying yours or anyone else’s.
Henry David Thoreau would have loved these two words and their implication of expressing freedom. He said, “Disobedience is the true form of liberty.” Out walking is all about liberty: I am out walking and not obeying anyone. I am defying any clock or curfew or deadline.
I am out walking and nothing else matters. Find me if you wish or dare.
To me these two words communicate that someone may be out for 10 minutes, or two hours, or all day, or that they may not return at all. They may have gone to the shop or they may have gone to Nepal. We do not know. They are simply out doing what they want to do and their time and destination is more important than yours. It is a philosophical statement, a testament, and a complete treatise of a belief system, in just two words.
One would never see these words pinned on a door in countries like North Korea or Iran – one could get arrested for expressing this freedom of choice and the subterfuge of not telling anyone where they were headed. Dictators want to know everyone’s thoughts and intentions. One might be thrown in jail in Syria for expressing these two words. Out walking is the highest form of freedom and its message is so powerful it could start a war.
But war is the last thing I want when I am out walking in nature, in Tasmania’s peaceful bush midst a forest of scampering pademelons, loping wombats and screeching cockatoos. This is where I find peace and rejuvenation. Far away from here the world may be shouting and falling apart at the seams, but here there is calm, centring and natural beauty enough to inspire and change the world.
Come to Tasmania, walk softly, and your footsteps will be heard and could lead to peace in the Middle East. The world is more connected than we would believe and every action has a reaction. One discovers while walking in nature that there is more than meets the eye; there is much to learn and that’s why I keep walking.
Go out walking in the natural world and you might find paths to peace and calm within yourself. These paths may be hard to walk sometimes, but we should not be afraid of challenges.
My head aches and my heart bleeds when I can’t go walking.
Out walking helps me discover who I am. It gives me strength and grounding. Walking challenges all the human things I think I know. Walking gives me perspective on the world we have constructed. Walking disconnects, deconstructs and then reconnects me with the power and wisdom of the earth. I learn something new with every walk.
You might find people like me walking empty beaches in winter, head bowed into the wind, or you might find us singing along with spring birds on a track midst flowering banksia and golden wattles, or you might see a lone silhouette tramping across snowy tiers, or you might find us walking alone on a cloudy morning, shuffling autumn leaves in a melancholy park.
People out walking are everywhere. See them, but don’t disturb them or you might experience some kind of direct action yourself, some local disobedience. If you interrupt their meditations they might act like me and bite your head off, or they might hug you: one can never be sure how these lone walkers might respond. They have moods, like the weather. Best to let them pass, for they are busy people – they are out making peace.
I think I’ll have out walking on my gravestone. Just gone. Gone, with no tethers to time or talk, no hinges on any doors or frames; just gone, somewhere in the hills and forests and mountains. Gone below the sun and stars, somewhere, anywhere. Just out Walking.
Don Defenderfer is a native of San Francisco who once went on a holiday to Alaska where he met an Australian who told him to visit Tasmania. So he did, and while here he met a woman. That was 30 years ago. He was state coordinator for Landcare Tasmania for many years, a job that allowed him to be inspired by not only the beauty of the Tasmanian landscape but by the many people that are trying to repair and renew it. He has a Masters Degree in Social Ecology and a Bachelor of Environmental Studies with a minor in writing. He has published three volumes of poetry, and his work has appeared in newspapers and periodicals, including The New York Times and The Australian.
