Take a Walk

 Senses are funny things. 

We use them all the time. I see you. 

Simple exchanges of information through our senses as we move through the day.

Passing over and through us as we scramble to reach for that next step in our journey. We notice. We perceive. We feel. We smell. We taste. We hear. All rushing past us signaling what is going on around us and connecting us to the world and to each other.

Senses.

They are automatic for us. You don’t have to stop smelling the fresh brewed coffee to hear the pitter patter of the rain. So many things that pass by us we filter them off so that they do not confuse us.  The crickets are deafening if you turn your ear to them. We learn not to look directly at the sun. How sour is too sour? Some smells can knock you on your ass. Yes, none of us live full throttle with our senses. 

Senses.

The wonderful thing about them is our ability to focus on them. There are times that senses are our world. We can define a moment by them. As the music shakes our souls and as I smell the sweet fragrance of your skin and feel the softness of your hand and the gentle press of my palm on the small of your back there is nothing but the dance.  

When you focus you see more. You hear more. You taste more. You smell more (sorry, I do need a shower). You feel more. It’s a marvel when you focus on one sense. That banana cream pie tastes like heaven.  Coffee is so wonderful because it allows us the intense pleasure of concentrating on more than one sense simultaneously.  There are some things in life that allow us the pleasure of intense focus with all our senses.  Be careful, all are addicting. 

Even as I think about senses I cannot help but relish in each and every one that passes through my focus. My fingers caressing the keyboards. Flying and touching specific keys as my mind forms the words that I envision. The dull ache as my muscles scream their exhaustion claiming that the day is done. The laughter in my mind that finally feels free as I collect the quiet that surrounds me.  It’s late and I will feel this tomorrow. But I am selfish as you know. You can see that in my actions.

I have discovered that my love for words stems from the love for the subtle differences in our perceptions. How are we really sensing things? To reach other souls and to share how we saw or felt or tasted is what it is all about. It struck me as thought and feeling caught up to me. Maybe more accurately as I caught up to thought and feeling. I am a people watcher. Always have been. My senses are now more focused as I watch people. I can’t even imagine how I used to watch them. 

The collision with my thoughts and feelings might have happen in a crowd of people. Yes, maybe a music festival. Yes, I was probably watching a pretty girl walk… 

And it hit me. The thoughts and feelings colliding with language and the subtle or sometimes broad terms that describe our perceptions.  She wasn’t walking, it was more... There was energy in her gait. A poor description,  “Her gait was filled with energy”?  

I thought Strut. This was a bit closer to the truth but it seems to me that Strut's simple purpose was to be noticed.  It may have been part of it but she had a destination in mind. Energy, confidence, destination… 

Was it?

Walk 

Strut

Gait

Hike

Jaunt

March

Pace

Parade

Promenade

Ramble

Saunter

Shlep

Step

Stretch

Scamper

Stride

Stroll

Tour

Traipse

Tramp

Tread

Amble

Canter

File

Lumber

Meander

Patrol

Plod

Prance

Race

Roam

Scuff

Shamble

Shuffle

Slog

Stalk

Stump

Toddle

Tour

Traverse

Trek

Troop

Trudge

Wander

My mind lingered on the words.  Testing and tasting them one at a time. So many words that describe a simple movement and none of them that could describe my perception of that moment.

I thought that instead of racing down this dark alley, I would  take some time to have some fun. I would take a word or more that means walk and show the focused translation of my perception…. 

I scampered down the dirt pathway that showed the wear of many feet. I pressed to pass a family that included a young girl wearing flip flops scuffing along the path. Her feet were dirtied by the hot dust and her mother irritated by the puff of each step as she pulled the young lady along by her hand. The group plodded on a beautiful trail meant for an adventurous trek.

Words are flavors of our senses. They are the rhythm of our life. They color our world to help others see how we perceive. How did you walk today?