Subversive Walking

I’ve been taking long walks with my dog, Shasta, every morning. We walk for around 2 hours, on various trails around Durham and Chapel Hill, while I look for edible mushrooms and he looks for —whatever it is he looks for. We go early to avoid the heat and too many other people, so I can keep him off leash which is so much more fun for both of us.

I have interesting recurring thoughts on these walks. One is that I could do this all day. It’s just an incredibly light and joyful thing to do — mostly because of the dog. I’m sort of looking at him for guidance on this. He just gets it. You walk, and you follow your nose. And you check out absolutely everything. And what could possibly be more amazing than that?

Another thing that keeps coming up is how many wonderful trails, along beautiful streams and creeks, with so many perfect swimming holes, are within 15 minutes of my house in Durham. And I’ve just started to explore! It’s hot during the day but just perfect at 7am, and we have it all to ourselves. I’m constantly awed at what we have so close.

Another thought is that looking for mushrooms is like hunting without the guns. It really does make the woods more fascinating when you start paying attention to what you can eat in them. And it gives you a sort of purpose. We just amble too, but there is a wonderful pleasure in a hunt, and you don’t have to aim to kill an animal to have that pleasure.

I’ve also become aware of how therapeutic these walks are. They set up my whole day for a sense of calm and groundedness, but with no real effort to do that. It just happens. 

I even had something like a peak experience, maybe a minor peak, the other day while I waded in the Eno river along with Shasta. I had listened to a talk about Zen Koan practice (by Henry Shukman) the night before, in which the koan was “the universe is one bright pearl.” I had been repeating that phrase over and over again in my mind while I walked, allowing myself to take in everything — the sights, sounds, feelings, thoughts — as if it were all “one bright pearl,” one entity with infinite facets that catch your attention just depending on how you are looking. Then in the water, with Shasta swimming to me in a state of pure innocent joy and the water sparkling in the sun and some other people around laughing — everything just started shimmering, really like the surface of a pearl, and I had that familiar sensation of just being part of that scintillating surface myself, not separate from it at all.

I’ve had these experiences before, sometimes much more powerful and overwhelming. This didn’t last too long but was a variety of the type. With daily meditation and long walks in the woods with a dog who knows exactly what to do, it didn’t even feel like a big deal to have an ego-dissolution experience. I mean, of course!

Finally, I keep thinking how countercultural walking is. It’s slow, and free, and unproductive, and simple, and primitive. All of which are actually subversive. It feels subversive to have so much fun without paying anyone a dime. (Though I do appreciate the expense involved in having nice trails and parks.) 

Somehow, that connects back to this attempt, ongoing, ill-formed, to subvert my participation in the meritocracy. Somehow, walking does that, in it’s simplicity and freedom. There is something of the hobo, the nomad, the bard — all of these archetypes of those who wander as a way to assert independence and find their freedom. Maybe this is my way of doing that while at the same time keeping my feet very much within the society which, for many good reasons, I do need to play a part.