I saw this wonderful video on Slate a few days ago about an Algerian immigrant to the US, Hakim Maloum, who walked across America, and it really got me thinking. 3,300 miles in 5 months. Very little money, and he couldn’t ask for help, although he could accept it. It’s just walking. So simple. But so inspiring. It is an exceptional feat.
My mother walks. She has some sort of spur in her foot now, and it’s killing her that she can’t walk like she did. She would walk marathons. She would walk charity walks, 20 km a day for three days. I never really understood her when I was younger. But it’s different now. There is something very meditative, very powerful, in the simple act of walking. It’s THE way people travel. And it can take us around the world, if we want it to. We ask ourselves, how far did Alexander the Great really get? How did the Romans get as far as England? Are there really Jews in India, Jews in Central Asia, Jews in China? How, how, how? If a man can walk across America, and my middle-aged + mother can walk marathons, why is it that we doubt the power and determination of human feet? It’s a big planet. But maybe it’s not that big. We were nomads, after all. How did people even get to the Americas? 
And here in Israel, we have a trail, the mother of Israeli trails, called (not surprisingly) The Israel Trail. It is a marked 1,000 km trail, from the very north to the very south of Israel. It takes around 40 days, give or take, according to people I know who have walked it. And it is difficult. Loneliness. Physical challenges. Even with money, finding resources and water is not often easy. Some good Samaritans often hide water bottles and jugs in places near the trail when it crosses into the Negev desert. I can hardly imagine what it must be like to be alone with yourself and only yourself for days on end with only a rugged path before you.
This reminds me of Paolo Coelho’s book The Pilgrimage, a beautiful autobiographical telling of his journey along the 500+ miles of the Spanish trail to Santiago de Compostella. It’s an epic walk. Angels and demons conspire to bewilder. A walk. The basic rhythm of humankind.
Yesterday I met and befriended an incredible couple here in Tel Aviv. One, a famous and important journalist, the other a filmmaker, writer, and professor. We met in because they wanted to improve their English speaking skills before a trip abroad. It turned out to be one of those fantastic, warm, super-friendly, heart to heart, wish-these-people-could-be-my-parents, kind of evening. We even sat in front of a wood-burning stove, which in Israel is an incredibly welcome anomaly. And I asked them, if you could do whatever it is that you want in the next phase of your life, no money or responsibilities need be considered, what would you do. The filmmaker answered that he would easily keep doing exactly what he was doing except that he would want to do it with far more self-confidence and ease. The journalist answered that she would pack a rucksack and just leave, walk, do nothing but walk and maybe visit a monastery, but just walk for perhaps six months. I asked her what was stopping her. People, the husband, children, you can’t just leave. But I really understand her impulse.
Lately, I have been puzzled with myself. I feel that my thinking is more sluggish. I feel like my innate enthusiasm for exploration is waning. On the other hand, and I don’t understand this at all, I feel like I am nearing a more peaceful place, a more peaceful phase in my life. Is it the slowing of the cogs in my brain? Is it the antidepressants? Is it complacency finally setting in? I’m not sure. I’m inclined not to think so because I know that I am still me. My mind not racing at a mile a minute is surprising because my life was dominated by this, and it was a huge part of my identity. Those thoughts are still there. Perhaps now I can access them in a more useful, timely way. Fleeting thoughts are not necessarily all that good. And then there is walking.
I have wanted to try walking the Israel Trail since I learned of its existence. Perhaps now that I am unemployed and with a little bit of cash in the bank I should go do it. A month of my life. Only a month. I went to India. Why not explore my homeland in the most basic way. On foot.
Thoughts anyone?
Why don’t you do a section of The Trail? Its very hard to do the whole thing at once, especially on your own.
I understand your urge though. Even if you do a 3 day section, that feeling of being all on your own in the wilderness will be amazing.
I know you’re right, Jeremy. I was thinking of trying to do a week at a time, and then going back to the place I left off at. That way, if I want, I can really do the entire thing in order, just in small chunks. But a week might be lot, anyway. Maybe it’ll be my day job. 5 days of walking and home on the weekends…?
Though I am reticent to advise others on what they should or shouldn’t do, I think you answered your own question in your post when you referenced the author Paulo Coehlo. At the same time, I am not suggesting you do it, just that from reading his books it seems as though you are at one of those crossroads as well.