Our lives are the sum of micro movements. Every second of every day, an infinite number of unpredictable factors wholly predict the course we travel—the people we meet, our life experiences and where we find ourselves—right here, right now. Independently, these factors seem trivial. A butterfly in Bali couldn’t possibly cause a hurricane in Bermuda. Or, could it?
As someone who makes her living working remotely, it's hard to admit that the only way to truly connect with someone is to look them in the eyes. Over the past two weeks, I have looked more strangers in the eye, many in the throes of some of their deepest struggles, and offered these words: "Buen Camino." The American equivalent? "Happy trails." The literal translation: "Good way."
Walking alone can be a meditative practice. Walking with children leads to interiority by a different path. My love for walking hearkens back to my days as a pilgrim, when I traversed Spain and, later, France on the Camino de Santiago. On pilgrimage, you follow the path, absorbing the folds of the land in your bones as the body wears out, and mind-chatter stills to a plain - flat, expansive, rounding at the edges.