The Long Road

By Rami Abdo

I turned around for a moment and gazed at my house in the distance. It had been such a long time since I took a walk, a simple stroll around the neighbourhood using my own two legs. There was no destination, no goal, it was simply a walk. My mind’s usually preoccupied with meaningless pursuits while behind a wheel. Dodging potential accidents, hate-mongering with the other road-rage filled drivers, making crucial decisions about the route I should or shouldn’t take. Walking doesn’t bully me in that way.

I also notice more things when I choose not to drive, the details in the little things that whiz past me while speeding across the main roads: The aroma of trees, the elaborate cracks in the walls of houses, the sounds passersby make as you glide past them. They are all important in some way, and ignoring them in my day to day journeys while I fuss about ‘bigger’ worries are a perfect metaphor for the way I sometimes become in my journey of life. I worry and muse over issues like money and my future plans, yet all around me I am surrounded by beauty in many shapes and sizes, beauty that offers itself to me on a silver platter. All I need to do is stop the world, reach out and pluck its succulent fruit.

How do I stop the world? I consciously and physically stop what I’m doing at any given moment, take the time to examine my surroundings with all my senses, and then I savour it, appreciate it, learn from it. What is this it? It is the realization that all the things around me are working together, interacting in a perfect way at that instant to create the circumstances I am currently in. It is the comprehension that everything around me is a living sentient being, constantly creating and destroying and forming new thoughts, new feelings, and new connections with itself in an ever-changing state of infinitesimal ecosystems existing inside slightly larger, more complex ones, and so on and so forth. To put it simply, it is understanding and valuing a moment for what it really is.

I faced a long stretch of empty road and decided to shut my eyes and see with my other senses. As soon as I did, I understood what it meant to feel with the body. At first I focused my will on hearing and I was swiftly bombarded with a flurry of activity that I normally wouldn’t even register: The rustle of dying leaves blowing across the pavement, the soft murmuring of the elderly as they sit on their front porch, gravel spraying from car tyres as they skid past.  I focused on each of these and they were heard as clear as if they occurred next to me.

As I concentrated my will on my sense of smell, I picked up on odours I usually ignore. The scent of freshly cut grass, the carbonic smoke of car emissions, even the heat baking the tar road was isolated in my nostrils as a unique identifiable smell.

I then became fully conscious of my body’s sense of touch. I felt the intricate network of my leg muscles flexing and relaxing, interacting with one another with every step I took. The wind caressed me gently as I moved against it. It swayed aside for me as I streamed past its flow, obedient to my shape and my movements. It separated and glided through my fingers, solidified once more on my palm and allowed me to grasp it as if the hilt of a sword. Then it flitted past and around me, resuming its former path and mission.

I opened my eyes and it was as if I could see for the first time in years. Colours were vibrant and contrasting, each exceptional with its own hue. My sight flowed through the landscape as a bird would glide down a hidden valley, on its own journey of discovery, picking out every new shape and every fresh movement. The trees swayed with the wind and the cars rolled with their momentum but I was stationary, immovable as the rock of the earth. I was invisible, a watcher of the machinations of the life around me, invincible to their touch.

As I sauntered down the road in my own world, I came across a pretty girl standing on the pavement, waiting for someone or something. I was bombarded with a multitude of elements all at once. The golden strands of her hair played in the breeze in perfect unison with the hem of her white skirt; they synchronized and composed together as an orchestra would. There was an auburn tinged aura emanating from her, a product of the rays of the setting sun reflecting off her pale skin. As I neared her, the subtle hint of sweet perfume approached my senses; it was a tender blend of vanilla and honeydew which intoxicated me under its spell. As I passed by, our eyes met briefly and in that fleeting moment time stood still. The energy in the air elevated me to new heights. The sides of her mouth arched into a smile and I smiled back. For that short instant it was as if we had known each other for years; a lifetime of questions were asked and answered and an infinite number of scenarios came to life and expired.

The spell was broken just as suddenly as it had woven itself into existence. Her father had pulled up with his car and picked her up. I looked back one last time and our eyes met once more, lingering and wondering for that which was...that which could have been. But as I strolled on down all I felt was wonder for what a simple walk down a long road can create: A series of short-lived moments that we can choose to either ignore or extract their enchanting core and enlighten ourselves with its beauty.