Walkabout

Some days I long to walk away. It is a fantasy I’ve had for years. To put on good shoes and walk. As far as my legs can take me. With no goal or purpose other than just move on. Night comes and I sleep somewhere. The next morning, I start walking again. Without any itinerary other than a general direction.

Unfortunately, because I'm a woman, safety would be a huge issue. I want to walk away, to go walkabout, but I've no desire to experience violence or sordid things. It's not the risk and danger I'm seeking. It's just the feeling of walking to nowhere, with no time limit, leaving all my earthly possessions behind, carrying nothing but a small backpack with a blanket and a bottle of water; stripping myself down, in a way, to my simplest expression.
I always picture leaving without a word to anyone. Without preparation. I'd suffer from the cold, lack of comfort, lack of daily shower, hunger perhaps. I haven't yet solved the issue of food. But I wouldn't be walking into the wilderness. I'd remain close to civilisation yet I wouldn't be part of it.

I would want to be alone. I'd never look at a map because I'd be passing cities and towns without caring where I am or where I'm going. I’d look at the nice houses on my way, the flowery gardens, at all those settled lives. In the beginning, my legs would be horribly sore but they'd get harder and harder. I would keenly feel the lack of everything I've always taken for granted: a shower for myself, a washing machine for my clothes, Tylenol when something hurts, everybody within the reach of a telephone, music, the company of cats, the company of men, a soft warm bed, the safety of walls, an identity defined by my job, income and house, a place in society. It wouldn't be forever. I'd go back to it all.

I wonder if the loneliness would become unbearable. I wonder if I would find a piece of myself that I simply can't access now, in this crazy, artificial life I'm living.

The day I gave birth, I condemned myself to never doing it. I have a family, a job, a mortgage, responsibilities, commitments.

But the longing remains. To one day, just walk away.