It seems we’re addicted to walks, at least during this curiously warm week in the quiet days before regular life demands our attention again.

On Monday, I went for a walk by myself to clear my head, twisting and turning through residential roads. There’s been some drama – and some loss – in my circle of friends and I let it get to me. But walking is meditation. You go and you go on your own two feet. You’re tired but you keep moving. You’re farther away than you ever intended to be, but you have the stamina to press on. To compel yourself forward even when your legs grow tired and the sun glares into your eyes as it sets. Walking is uncomplicated, but not necessarily easy. I think that’s the best way to live.