Walking the Talk

Yours truly walking beside my beloved Mississippi River yesterday.

So I've been on a bit of a walking theme here of late. Since the start of John Francis' Planetwalker. By page 35 I had come to the conclusion that this book is very much less a book about walking and silence--oh yes, it is about both an inner and outer journey--and very much more a book about one man's struggle to bring the total living of his life into harmony with what he believes to be true....

Is not this a struggle that we all face eventually (perhaps even continuously?)...to truly live what we say we believe...to walk our talk?

Some excerpts (Bold emphasis is mine). From page 21:

""We could live a simpler lifestyle and not need so many cars." I hear myself say the words.... "We could stop driving cars. Stop riding in them," I add. This idea surprises us both.

"Yeah! That's a great idea." Then after a moment of thought, "But we can't afford to do it right now. We'll get some money, then we can do it."

....We have often in our minds constructed the utopian society built on how everyone ought to be. Living more simply and not driving automobiles sounds like a good idea, but even as I say the words, the complexity of my daily life, my 60-mile-an-hour habit, tells me that it is not something we would give up easily. Besides, as Jean said, we can't afford to do it just yet. We need money first. I tell myself that money will buy the time to slow my life down to a walk."

From page 26, 27, a friend (Jerry) has just died suddenly:

""No, that's not what I mean," I answer. "I like it here just fine. Maybe that's part of it. I just didn't want to come back and fall into the same old way of living a life I know has got to change...."

As soon as I say the words, I know it is more than that. I...could not help thinking about Jerry. He seemed to have everything. He had youth, a beautiful wife, children, a good job, and a house with a picket fence. Then one morning it's all gone. His life is over. There are no promises in life that my sun will rise, that Jean's revolution will happen, that the money will come. The only sure thing is now, and in the experience of now I know what I need to do, to be."

....it has to start now."

From page 33: "I might as well die living what I believe."

From page 34; John Francis has had a cancer scare and he is walking to his doctor's appointment:

"I look away from the silhouettes in the sky and extract the pack of cigarettes from my pocket. Clouds of smoke are already wafting through the air when the absurdity of my actions strikes me. I wonder how I can in all honesty care about pollution caused by cars or be so concerned about the health of the environment, when I do this to myself?

Then I realize that walking is not enough. Perhaps it is a beginning, but now I see that I am going to have to change not just on the outside but on the inside too, in more ways than I can now imagine. I think that maybe I have already begun this inner change. It seems that all change begins unseen or at least unnoticed in the journey we call life. I shake my head as I read the familiar warning on the package label, cough a laugh, and give up smoking then and there."

John meets much opposition and misunderstanding from friends and family when he begins to radically change his life...to seriously begin to live what he has long said he believes...to bring his life into harmony with his vision of truth.... I could very much relate as I read the words, the "concerns" of his friends. The sincere verbal "pats on the head," so to speak...the "It's just a phase...."

But he took a step...and then another...and there was no going back. The time was now. There is no "someday."

This book--and the life it chronicles--challenges me so far....

Because I often wonder,--this book is nowhere near the first time--will my words be just words...or will my life speak?

The question lingers. The answer? Only time will tell, eh?

Here's a parting shot from me from yesterday's walk:

Late autumn woods by the river.