by Leo Babauta
Today I set out from my house and walked. And walked.
I didn’t have a specific destination in mind, but wanted to walk a bit before finding a quiet place to write. So I walked, out of the town where I live and along the tropical, white-sand coastline, to the next town over.
As others drove cocooned in their cars, I walked, and emitted nothing but my breath.
As others spent their lunch hour pounding down fat-laden burgers and greasy fries or some other cheesy fried piled-high dish, I walked, and burned calories.
As others rushed and stressed, I walked, and took my time.
As others sat at their computers, I walked, and got my blood flowing.
As others held power business meetings and made deals, I walked, and had time to think.
As others were productive and got tasks done, I walked and got nothing done, and cleared my head.
As others had the comfort of shelter and air-conditioning, I walked and worked up a light sweat and was buffeted by the wind.
As a white gull floated serenely above a calm bay, I walked, and watched, and loved it.
I walked for an hour, then wrote and read, and then walked for another hour to get back home, tired but happy.
I can’t walk this much every day, but I walk as much as I can, because you need nothing to walk, you spend nothing, you consume nothing, you emit nothing.
And yet you have everything.