a morning walk

Today I drove to school early, prepared to spend the usual 45 minutes doing battle for a parking space in the fine arts center parking lot. That parking lot is at most a five or ten minute walk from all my classes, which is why I like it. Doing battle consists mostly of circling the parking lot like a hungry vulture, searching for unsuspecting pedestrians and following them like a creepy stalker when they walk to their cars... and waiting, ready to pounce on the open parking space. It is a battle because there are usually very many other cars also circling the lot like vultures, and one must employ both utmost stealth and perseverance in order to win a parking space.

But when I got to the fine arts center parking lot I really didn't feel like doing the creepy stalking vulture thing. I just didn't want to. It's really aggravating and stressful. So after a brief prowl around, I left the fine arts center and cruised down the road to the exiled parking lot on Plains Road, which had gazillions of empty spaces. No fight. The lack of battle and vultures was relieving but I dreaded the long walk uphill to Independence Hall which is pretty much the furthest building from the exiled parking lot.

I usually don't like walking because I rush and feel like I have to almost run, because I'm usually late, and by the time I get where I want to be, I feel like I'm about to keel over. And while I'm doing the mad rush I just keep thinking of negative things, for instance: "Argh I hate this hill," "The wind is going to mess up my hair," "The mud is never going to come out of my shoes," "I'm pretty sure I forgot to do my homework again." Mostly dumb things that I know don't matter at all and usually don't think about, but for some reason when I'm already aggravated (like when in a hurry) thoughts like these just breed and multiply.

But today, since I got there early, I had lots of time, so I decided to walk slowly. I had to make a conscious effort to do this and whenever I caught myself trying to rush, I had to remind myself to calm down and go slowly. Then I realized that I was happy. The weather was pretty much my perfect weather: around thirty-five degrees, not windy, cold but not painfully cold. There was a nice light that washed over the winter trees and grass and a vibrant blue sky above.

It made me remember something that used to be really important to me. I used to think that finding answers and analyzing life was wrong and mostly pointless, and that just being was the best way to live. Appreciating what is around you and experiencing nature and life. This was also when I was kind of a pantheist and thought anyone could find spirituality in everything, like trees and flowers and other people. I really miss that. I almost became an atheist in the past few months, or at least an extreme doubter, and also just mostly stopped appreciating life, because I couldn't shake the sad thought of everything being temporary or illusory. But this morning as I walked up the hill to my class I felt the cynicism falling away, dissolving. For the first time in a really long time, I felt calm instead of anxious and happy instead of morose. Like things were right and good and beautiful in the late morning winter sunlight.