Walking

Walking.

The title of this blog is “Walking in Austin.” Over the past week I have rediscovered this art that was so motivating that it became the name for the medium in which I am the most honest with myself.

Since New Years I have become Serpico. For those whom this reference has no memory, he was a detective in New York that was the key witness against his fellow cops who were taking illegal cash payments from criminals. The story was made into one of my favorite films under the same name and utilizing Al Pacino as the lead. I mention the fact that I am becoming Serpico not because I am a cop, but because I feel like it is my duty to try and express how beautiful life is, but it is just under the surface of this current world. Also, because Pacino has a very long beard and hair, which I am currently sporting, which is pretty fantastic.



I have two offices here in Austin. Both are equally as sublime in different ways and both provide amazing places for writing, thinking and talking. The first of these offices is located at the Town Lake. Around the lake area, my actual office changes each day as there are so many different locations. The second of my offices, when the weather is poor, is the Capital. The Capital is open to the public and has viewing rooms above the Senate and House floors. These rooms can seat hundreds, auditorium style. It provides a very quite sanctuary in which free thought can flow will inside an amazing building over 100 years old.



Both of these locations are on my daily walking route. I have calculated it, and I roughly walk about 10 miles a day. These walks have happened under the clear blue skies and the grey storm clouds with rain. These walks happen everyday and are a way of meditation. Everyone else drives, I walk. I am of a select few, but we are out there. We are the people that do not have to rush anywhere as we have no expectations other than our personal happiness.



I have begun to notice a pattern. A pattern with the music I listen to depending on where I am on the journey. When I start it is always to Spoon. When I get to the park it switches to Pearl Jam. When I get across Congress bridge and approach Zilker park it is Bright Eyes. When I decide to sit and rest it is Sigur Ros. When I write it is Radiohead, When I read it is Animal Collective. When I begin to walk back to the house it is Tom Waits. This pattern can be broken, but it provides the soundtrack for what has become my life.



This pattern continues with the people that I see on the trail. I think of them as my friends. They are also ailed by the conscious that can only be cleared with the power of walking. I see the same gentleman riding his bike wearing only a flesh tone colored string thong. He always smile in my direction. The first time I saw him I had to take a second look. Was that dude really wearing just a thong? Yes, yes he was. Now that I see him everyday I wave and nod. He smiles and returns the karma, rides right on by grinning like a child.



When I cross under the bridge for the Interstate 35 there is the same woman sitting on the bench fighting some demon in her head that will never let her rest. I am sure she has some form of dementia and is homeless. A tear is always formed and no matter what my thoughts are caught up in, at that moment I just thank everyone that I know for just being there. I can see the pain in her dilated eyes from years of self torment. How she has fended off anyone that could have ever loved her. How she had become just too difficult for her relatives to take the time to care for her. How cruel this world can be if you just get beaten down one too many times.



Further down the path is a bench that I meditate at. It is located off of the running trail and is surrounded by the lake. I stop every time I am at the bench just to slow everything down. The last two days, when I approached this bench a construction worker was enjoying his lunch. He was a stout African American man and was clad with the mist of saw dust. Across the street is the location in which a very large building with new lofts was being constructed. He was taking his break from building living spaces for people in a much higher social class. This was his moment to just sit and think. Or just sit and not think. Or just sit and sit. I smiled and nodded, he returned the favor. This was his little piece of paradise for the day and it was amazing to watch how a little park can transform the identity of a man within his own mind.



Something happens when I visit this park. A transformation. It feels like the rush of life is drowned out to a little murmur. Like all the cries and worries of the society wash away as the wind off the lake sways the trees.



I have always been a walker and a talker. Talking to me has always been one of my favorite things to do. Yes, this is why I have a blog and I am a writer. When you are a writer, you always have someone to talk to.



These patterns that I have created for my days have allowed for portals to be opened. Portals that allow for my subconscious to breath without the judgment of those around. The work is judge enough. This world is not here to judge what has happened before or what will happen again. It is just witness to what we bring to it. We are not here to be better or worse than our neighbor. It is not our job to make the most money or win the most contests. It is our job to simply be happy.



People are always afraid of what they do not know. I am no different. I am just as scared of every calamity that could happen or getting cancer. I am scared of running out of money or being alone my whole life. These issues have been imprinted in our minds to be things that cause fear for good reason. But, our brains can be re-programmed. We can control what we value and how it effects our lives.



Remember, no one has ever been born great. People who were dubbed mad during their times are not thought of has the greatest thinkers ever to walk the Earth. When you live on the edge there are moments in which you get cut and other moments in which you lose complete contact with the surface. Know that every moment is temporary and everything will make sense in the moonlight.



I started this post with the importance of walking. It is a meditative activity that allows me to leave this world the better. I have patterned myself with moments that cause my personal happiness. This happiness is found in my writing as each day I find out something new about myself. How are we to be honest to others when we are afraid of who we are?



Moral: Get out and walk or do whatever activity it is that centers your soul. Do not allow the judgments of others or their expectations force you to compromise your happiness. Embrace the challenges of living and when everything comes crashing down, take a moment, look around and say “Big deal, is that all you have for me?” Lastly, if you are ever in Austin and want to have a picnic, let me know, I’ll see if I can make time in my schedule. Much Love folks and happy Friday baby!


Fantastic clip that should make you smile and the best way to end this post, in my humble opinion :)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2uzAqDrAwR8