During a lazy Spring Break day, my good friend texted me: “Go take a walk and listen to this podcast.” For many people, I would respond, “LOL no.” After all, how can anyone take that text seriously? However, this isn’t just any old friend; she avidly chases all things mindful: from her Pinterest dream boards to her Sunday Sunset Walks. I was sitting on my couch, ready to waste an hour on my phone, and I thought – why not? I put on a pair of fresh sneakers, grabbed my AirPods and walked to Riverside Park. After I listened to the podcast, “Why We Should Be Grateful To Be Alive,” by Lexi Hidalgo, I started to look at the world differently.
At a particularly emotional point of the podcast, where Hildago discussed personal loss, she insisted, “Live your life for the ones that can’t.” She intentionally paused afterward, letting the message travel through the airwaves into my heart. I also took a moment to pause. I looked at the glorious view of the George Washington Bridge, I felt the wind in the air, blowing my hair back and I took notice of the people around me. When do we ever just – pause?
“Live your life for the ones that can’t.”
The rest of the podcast, which I highly recommend, continued in the same form. Hidalgo addressed all facets and times in our lives: emotional, physical, past, present and future. Hidalgo professed, looking to the future, “Think of all the people you haven’t met yet.”
After the last words of Hidalgo faded away, I let the silence simmer in my ears. I took everything in. I breathed. I noticed. I watched a little girl on her father’s shoulders, a little boy swinging a baseball bat and two elderly people sitting on a bench, reading like they probably have for decades. I crouched down and inspected pieces of strawberry in the dirt. I imagined people coming together to share a box of berries, or maybe someone came alone, their only company a book and the red fruit.
On my walk, nothing happened to me: fireworks didn’t go off, I didn’t win any awards and no one around me noticed anything. That was the point. People didn’t notice that I saw the cherry trees in a brighter pink or that the clementine in my bag seemed a brighter orange.
