Walking as Your Personal Story

Walking is such a simple and natural act that we often underestimate its significance, yet it is precisely through this movement that we begin to experience the world, that we can connect with the diverse possibilities surrounding us, and bring our choices to life.

Sometimes, it is only when we are unable to move that we realise how fundamental walking is to our existence; not only as physical activity, but above all, as an essential tool for meeting our needs and realising any of our desires.

We could almost define it as a form of autobiography, a thread that weaves together the story of each of us, in our uniqueness, from our first tentative and curious steps, to our last, trembling and weary ones.

We can all reconstruct our life's journey by remembering the walks we have taken, starting with those of childhood, in the confined spaces of home, in courtyards and on the way to school, from one side of the playground to the other, then moving to those of adolescence, marked by sudden escapes and wanderings, reckless departures and disastrous returns, through to adulthood with its queues and long waits, endless circles, but also strolls, journeys, and unending races.

To tell our story is to retrace our path, to revisit the places we have inhabited and visited, to meet again the people we have known, loved and forgotten, to relive the joys and sorrows, discoveries and wounds: to move once more along those stretches of road where we left something of ourselves and where we took something else away.

It does not matter whether we have been slow or fast, constant or unpredictable; every chapter of our story takes the exact shape that belongs to it, following its own rhythm based on how much and how we were walking in a given period, how many stops we had to make, or how many obstacles we had to overcome.

All the changes of direction, the uncertainties, the climbs, the falls, the different perspectives, the stops and the right of way, the overtaking, the about-turns are immediately accessible to memory through the account of our own walking; footprints and traces that mark what we have done, as testimony to our efforts and successes or as a warning not to fall into other mistakes and shortcomings.

How many paths have you travelled so far? Or have you always stayed on the same road? Who have you taken your most important steps with? When have you walked alone? How many times have you had to change your shoes? And your travelling companion? Who held your hand crossing an intersection? And who abandoned you once you reached the finish line? Which destination can you never seem to reach?

Can you see your autobiography? Now that you have written the first pages, now that you have a sort of draft at your disposal, take some time to reread it, to relive emotions and situations, and then modify it, adding those details that only through vivid memory can surface, but also leaving blank pages and spaces to fill.

Every new life experience is a journey and every new journey is an experience, so the material for writing your own story can only continue to evolve, enriched with nuances, interweavings and opportunities.