Some days are for introspection. Others are for finding ways to climb outside your head entirely ...
Walking is something I never want to take for granted. It's an every day thing, yes. Menial. Subconscious. Effortless, to most. But to me, sometimes I still catch myself darting across the room and marvel at the magic in it. I remember how hard I worked for it and all the years it seemed so tauntingly out of reach.
And other times, just putting one foot in front of the other can be a kind of therapy to me. Cathartic.
Nowhere in particular, with no fixed destination or distance in mind. Just counting the steps. Brushing through ferns, winding through trees, climbing up hills.
Four-thousand-and-three. Four-thousand-and-four. Four-thousand-and-five.
And finding peace.