by Christine Swan

Life has been very challenging recently. There is no loss like the untimely passing of your child. I felt a desperate need to escape the crushing sense of grief but also felt quite unable to. A steady stream of neighbours and friends visited to offer their condolences and help but, what could they do to ease the pain? Nothing. I grew tired of answering questions – the when, why and who. What is there to say when there are no words?

At first, I didn’t want to do anything. Every day was the same hell over and over. I made phone calls that I didn’t want to make, spoke to people I would rather not have and there seemed to be no let up or relief from it. Now, a few weeks later, I am beginning to feel the new normal that many bereavement websites talk about. Time to pull on my boots and walk.

I am lucky to live in a small city surrounded by green spaces. There are shady woodlands to explore, riverside paths and miles of hills and meadows. But, I am a town mouse at heart and my beloved London draws me back time and again because there is always something new to discover and so many memories of happy times past.

You might expect one to tire on a lengthy walk on hard pavements, leading to giving up and jumping onto the Tube. However, if I decide a starting point and a goal, I always achieve it. Perhaps this is part of the appeal – a challenge won and a sense of achievement gained. I can walk ten miles, fifteen on some occasions. While I can’t control events happening in my life, this much, I can.

Walking also presents the opportunity for life to come into focus. My objective may be to visit a specific place which holds significance, but while I am walking, I may become aware of other features that I had not noticed previously. It’s almost as if the extra oxygen pumping around in your blood when you walk, heightens the senses so that you see and notice more.

Walking also offers an opportunity to think. Solvitur ambulando – it is solved by walking. We all need space to think but life comes at you hard and often it’s a luxury that just isn’t possible. Sometimes I walk to solve a puzzle or problem such as a bug in a computer program. Other times, the puzzle is life itself. Just like Forest Gump heading off to run across America after losing his mother, I feel the same need to put one foot in front of the other and to just keep on going. In spite of everything that has happened, I can do this and believe that it truly will be okay, eventually.

All photos by the author