Monday, November 18, 2013

Walking Home

Before I can truly begin this blog post, I need to remind everyone that I am a quote snob.  I'm a quote elitist.  I am very selective about the quotes I choose to admire, and I am very quick to rip apart a widely accepted or beloved quote.  I'm just cynical that way.

However, I'd also like to acknowledge that I am a big fan of collecting quotes on my Pinterest quote board (despite my shame in even having a Pinterest board).  The majority of the quotes I pin involve some sort of advice about finding or making peace, being kind, appreciating life, and the like.  I see my quote board as a sort of virtual sanctuary.  I relish these quotes; I bask in them and let the words settle gently in my being.  I am eternally searching for a way to be nicer, gentler, better.  I repeat these quotes to myself as an ongoing mantra; I have to remind myself to "always be kinder than you feel."  I wake up and tell myself to "start each day with a grateful heart."  I talk to someone out loud and think all the while, "Be humble; you could be wrong."  I'm not going to just get out of bed and suddenly, magically, become a better person.  I have to constantly remember to actively BE better.

Anyway, now that that's out of the way, I can move on to the real point of this blog post.  Whilst whittling my precious life away by staring semi-catatonically at the dull glow of my computer screen and exercising only my scrolling fingers, I came across this quote on good old Pinterest:

"We're all just walking each other home."
-Ram Dass

I've never had such a strong reaction to something so simple.  I got chills.  My eyes immediately filled with tears.  Something just sort of-- clicked.

This is how I want to live my life.  I want to walk everyone home.

I don't know who Ram Dass is, and I don't know the context of this quote.  (I did a quick Google search but didn't actually click any links... because I'm a bad blogger who doesn't do her research beforehand and would easily fail out of journalism school.)  All I know is that those seven words mean everything to me.

Okay, so this blog post could get very religious, very fast (very QUICKLY, I know).  I could make the argument that "home" is the "kingdom of heaven."  There's an easy writing route to take, especially with a certain big event coming up in my life in just two months, in which I could rehash and reexplain the whole concept of marriage as being the singular goal of getting one's significant other to heaven.  Marriage should be two people walking each other home.  Y'all follow, right?

But I don't want to limit this just to married people.  This quote applies to everyone, every minute of every day.  We know that this life is a journey; we've heard endless metaphors about roads less traveled and choosing the right path and symbolic forks in symbolic roads and so on and so forth.  Emerson reminds us that life is a journey, not a destination.  And I feel like we've been so conditioned to swallow these sentiments, to enjoy ourselves on this ride, to not worry about where we're going, that we forget there is a destination.  Somewhere, there's a home.

Home.  What a beautiful word, with such a peaceful connotation.  No matter how messy or crazy (or under constructiony) your HOUSE is, somewhere is home for you.  And I like to think that after our life's journey is over, there is a home waiting for us.  ("But Erica, I don't believe in heaven or hell!"  "Erica, when you said this post COULD get religious, you were kind of implying that it WOULDN'T!"  Just hold on a second and hear me out, okay?)

This life is a long walk.  I don't care if you do or do not believe there's a home waiting for you at the end of it.  I hope you do, but if you don't, I think we can all agree on the long walk detail.  

So let's keep each other company.  Let's carry each other's books on this walk.  Let's hold hands and look both ways when we cross streets.  Let's warn someone if they don't see a pothole or a tree root.  Let's take the scenic route.  Let's run through neighbors' sprinklers on hot days.

Don't let anyone walk home alone.  Buddy system, you know?  Nod at strangers and give them a friendly greeting on this long walk home.  Push the crosswalk button for somebody and let them go ahead of you.  Look at the flowers in nearby gardens; study the grass pushing through the cracks in the sidewalk.  Walk.  Amble.  Stroll.  

Can you imagine a literal walk home where you see someone walking faster than you, or better than you, so you run as quickly as you can to catch up and push him or her down from behind?  Now this person crumpled at your feet, and you step over without looking down and continue on your long walk home.  Can you imagine a walk home where someone's walking too slowly, blocking your path, and instead of politely walking around him or her or excusing yourself, or even offering to walk with him or her and chat a little, you just shove this person out of the way?  I worry about the people I may have pushed down in my life.  I worry that I have shoved too many people because they were too slow for my pace.

Alright, have I tortured this poor metaphor enough?  Has it been properly extended?  I just had such a strong reaction to this quote that I wanted to share it.  And I can't share anything without extensively rambling about it.

Allow me to leave you with this last thought:  If I get the chance to walk home with you, I hope that I am good company.  I hope that I get to learn something from you on our walk, and I hope that I have something to offer.  I hope to make the walk as enjoyable as possible.  It would be an honor for me to walk with you.