Here's to more of what makes you feel more alive
Why a walk cures everything - or at least it does for me.
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I stepped out onto the path which winds along the narrow strip of beach along Singapore’s East Coast Park; sun streamed into my eyes. It was still before 8am and the sun had not long risen but was already beating down, lighting up the sea. Even the countless tankers and commercial ships which dominate the view looked magical in the morning light.
I used to walk all the time, miles at a go, multiple days a week. It’s a very British pastime. A walk in the countryside is the cure for all ills. Lately, I’ve collected a bag full of reasons I struggle to keep up this habit these days.
Our first few months in Singapore, it seemed to rain every single morning. When it’s not raining, it’s humid and hot, the sun is intense. But there would’ve been a time when not even the rain would’ve stopped me and the heat is bearable if I leave early and stay in the shade as much as possible. Only thunderstorms, which are both frequent and dangerous, present an actual reason to stay indoors.
The truth is, I’ve been tired, lethargic. The inertia the last few years created in me is difficult to break.
Grief weighed heavy; so much was lost.
I grew up in a world that never taught me how to let go and say goodbye. So I hunkered down, hit survival mode and forgot how much I love walking. I gained weight, literally and metaphorically. Then Covid, which we caught a few weeks after we arrived, left me short of breath for months even after I’d recovered.
Through it all, my body has aged. My joints stiffened. As I tried to ease back into walking, I was forced to slow my pace; the heat requires I stop for drinks along the way; I can’t walk as far as I used to without experiencing pain in my feet.
But I want to pay attention to it all. I want to notice all the life happening around me. To be present in my body and to this beautiful (if flawed - see previous comment about the huge tankers along the Singapore coast) place I get to live in.
My energy lifts and my creativity flows more freely when I get outside and walk. I needed to stop telling myself a story about why I couldn’t make space for walking in my day. When it genuinely is too hot, or the rain is too heavy or tinged with electricity, I can do yoga or an exercise video on YouTube.
Today, like most days I go out, I took the path directly East, the direction of the rising sun. I let myself breathe it all in and felt the ocean breeze on my skin; enjoyed the shade from the palm trees that lined the path.
Countless others were also out for morning exercise. There were fit young locals running in expensive looking gear. They all seemed to be plugged into headphones, which no doubt pumped music or perhaps the voice of an app telling them how fast and far they were running. Several other expats ran or walked. A few brave souls were taking a dip in the ocean.
Several groups of elder Singaporeans took part in group exercises. One group was split into 4 or 5 smaller groups, all walking in unison around several trees which had a circle cut out in the grass (intentionally? or had they worn it down over the years?) to allow them to walk around the tree in slow, deliberate steps. Instructions in Chinese were being blasted out from a speaker. Each group member held their arms out towards the trees as they walked. I wanted to know if this form of exercise has a specific name. What energy and power were they drawing from the trees? I’ve seen them many mornings when I’ve actually made it out to walk. I assume they must be there every day, connecting to some life force we could probably all do with connecting with.
Another group was doing fan dancing. The satisfying click of the fan as they all flipped them open at the same time took me back to years ago in Shanghai. It was the first year I spent in Asia. I was twenty-three/ twenty-four years old, literally half my lifetime ago. I have a photo of a group of dancers with blue fans in the morning light of Shanghai’s Bund. Today I’d hesitate to take photos. It feels intrusive and inappropriate. But back then I was still a tourist (even though I was in China for a year). I snapped photos of every sight, which included the people, as well as the cities they had made.
When I headed back towards home, I saw yet another group all dressed in white outfits with sun visors on their heads. They were moving to upbeat music and the sound of, ii, er, san, si (1,2,3,4) repeating along with the beat. I might not have learnt much Chinese in that year in China, but every morning when I was there, I could hear children counting 1-10. The rhythms and tones of their voices still echo through the years.
Since we moved here, I’ve heard several people use the phrase Vitamin Sea. We need to see the ocean and feel the salt-tinged air, they say, just like we need Vitamin C and all the other vitamins to feel alive and well. There’s a Reel going round on Instagram about how humans need to see water for their wellbeing. And I definitely feel this is true for me. I grew up living a couple of miles from England’s South Coast. Most weekends we would walk along the coast and in my childhood we’d go crabbing and searching for shells and other sea creatures.
This last year is the first time I’ve lived within walking distance of the coast since I moved away from home as a teenager. I became a city dweller. The sea was somewhere I only visited from time to time. But for years now I’ve been wanting to live near the sea again. Living by the coast again feels like coming home. By which I mean, coming back to myself.
They say the clues to your best life lie in the things you loved as a child. Before socialisation and the drive to forge a life for yourself kicked in, you knew what you loved. You naturally sought out the things which made you feel alive. Like many Brits, I grew up walking long distances and love to walk. And I think perhaps I was a mermaid in a former life and the sea is actually my natural habitat (I’m serious about this).
Life gives us many challenges, which can leave us disconnected from who we really are and what we most love. But we also always have a choice to find ways to reconnect to the things which make us feel alive. Walking by the sea makes me feel grounded and connected with nothing to prove to myself or anyone else.
I had all kinds of reasons why I wasn’t doing this walking thing as much as I wanted. But nobody benefits when we stay cut off from ourselves. So here’s to morning walks, or whatever it is that makes you feel connected and alive.
P.S. Curious about how I go about crafting a short essay like this? This month’s Creative Release is all about how to practice Show don’t Tell to follow your thoughts to connect your reader to the emotional heart of your writing, and show your reader why the moments you pick to write about matter to you.
Check it out here:
https://kamsin.substack.com/p/show-don’t-tell/
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