The Follow Up

I have been home a week now.  Most of that time I have spent inside my apartment, sequestered and safe. It's strange because for all the time I spent outside during my walk 'outside' now seems unappealing and even frightening at times. Of course I am in the big city which makes a difference. And San Francisco is certainly becoming "the Big City" as more and more high rises claim every available open space blocking out views, sunlight and that open feeling that added to SF's charm. Even the big city lot two blocks from my place that I helped turn into a beautiful urban farm/garden was razed while I was gone and is slated for more expensive high rises. I'm choking here.

But inside I feel good. I have slept much, read, listened to music, sat still. It is a refuge. Being quiet has helped. I still am not keen to talk about the walk too much; I believe I need to distance myself from it a bit more before I can begin to digest it all (over again). It was/is a lot. Fortunately, many friends have been respectful enough to give me the space I need and have tried to understand where I'm coming from. I don't expect everyone to empathize because some just cannot. My friends, however, that have traveled far & wide and for long periods of time, they get it. My former Peace Corps friends get it. My friend who walked this summer in peace against the Keystone Pipeline, he gets it. In fact, he is going through a bit of the same thing I am right now and his journey was only three weeks.
I have read a little (there seems to be only a little available) online about "post-hiker depression". How to make sense of it all. How to reintegrate after months of being so close to the earth, especially now surrounded by so much concrete. I'm maybe less depressed than I am confused. I'm just not sure what-next, where-next. I am trying to get back to my pre-walk life but except for a few things it doesn't fit right anymore. So there is now a rearranging to come, to figure out how to live. Out with the old, in with the new. But more immediate, I just want to walk outside and breathe again. I want to hear birds not cars. I want to listen to the rustle of leaves in the breeze not young hipsters yelling to their friends. I want to see sky not buildings. For now I must accept that I am smack dab in the city, in a rent-controlled, affordable apartment and find my peace where I can.

I may have done something very brilliant before I left in March--I accepted some work in early September that has me outside the city, in more open spaces. Already I am relishing the escape, to be outdoors and feel the tranquil environs of nature. Until then, I must continue to rest and build up my strength. I went out yesterday to run a few errands on my own. Parts of my feet are still numb, I'm guessing from nerves that were a bit overused. The bum knee I had originally dealt with during the start of my walk is fairing well as long as I do my daily stretches. But it was my legs that got wobbly after an hour, as if I were a newborn colt standing up for the first time. And I got woozy, light-headed too. I realized I had reached overload so I closed my eyes, blocked out stimulation, breathed, and got centered again before I continued.

Time heals all, right? This will be no different. I just wonder where I'll be when it's time to rebuild and move on. Something new must emerge. Something. One friend has already asked when I will be walking the next portion of the world, namely "Istanbul to Beijing". When I read that I thought, 'you gotta be kidding, I just stopped'.  Moments later, however, I was giving it consideration. Walking just makes sense. And at this point I rule out nothing.