On peace and tranquility

I’ve just read a fascinating book, Windswept by Annabel Abbs, in which the author follows routes taken by several well known women, when it really wasn’t common, usual or even safe for women to walk recreationally, never mind alone. They all had different reasons for walking, but the common thread seems to have been a search for either freedom or peace. This got me thinking about my walking and what I’m searching for.

Aside from the more obvious reasons such as health and fitness, exploration in a more intimate way, experiencing the seasons and the weather and all the accompanying sights, smells and sounds, it’s just something I really love doing and have done for decades. More esoterically, I find I’m seeking out peace and solitude as I get older and this thought occurred to me when a recent walk in beautiful bluebell woods filled with birdsong was marred by the whining, continuous shriek of a chainsaw tearing through the silence. I know people have valuable work that must be done, but we are assailed by so much noise every day and most of it I’m not sure we realise is there, so attuned have we become. An hour or two of peace is calming, restorative and grounding. An hour or two of walking in peace clears my head, stills my mind, restores the equilibrium. It’s become an important part of my day when I switch off the phone for an hour and wind down. A quick evening walk in the summer months after work gives me a wonderful sense of freedom after being cooped up inside, as well as siphoning off the stresses and strains of the day. Many an hour stuck in traffic has been borne with the anticipation of a walk in the woods or by the river.

As a youngster, I was very shy and introverted. As a teenager, I was never heavily into partying or drinking and preferred to be outdoors with Bro, friends, dogs or horses for company. During our decades of travelling the world, Bro and I journeyed to slightly off the beaten track, less populated places such as the Galapagos, Namibia, Tanzania, Borneo and Tibet which, twenty or so years ago, weren’t as popular as they have now become. I think our shyness and slight lack of confidence perhaps led us to avoiding places with lots of people, and whether that was a conscious or subconscious choice, I’m not sure, but it certainly had a bearing on where we went, and still does to an extent. We like wild, empty places with big views and dramatic skies, plenty of wildlife and beautiful scenery.

In latter years on the fells and mountains of the Lake District, we loved loved the wide, open fells in less frequented areas, revelling in the views, the peace and the solitude. We also started setting off on our walks earlier and earlier, enjoying the cool, quiet of the dawn and delighting in the most beautiful sunrises from the summits. This usually was a conscious decision, but for practical and logistical reasons, such as finding a parking spot in the height of summer or not wanting to be caught in traffic, rather than a need to get away from everyone; we certainly enjoyed many, many conversations on the hill and in the pub afterwards with interesting, wonderfully friendly people, lots of whom became friends on social media.

All this, I suppose, crystallises my feelings that now peace, quiet and contentment and a certain amount of freedom (I have constraints and responsibilities like everyone else) are hugely important to me and this comes with a simpler life, a slower pace, a greater appreciation of the little things and simple pleasures. Being outdoors, surrounded by green, by birdsong, in fresh, clean air perhaps with a view, with company or alone; I feel I’ve become much more attuned to nature and the natural world around me and that brings me great inner peace.