I've found that the simple act of walking has changed my life. Walking interminably, taking in through your pores the distance, short or far away, when you are confronting them at length, breathing in the shape of the world while finding your way home. The body becomes steeped in the earth and concrete it treads. And thus, gradually, it stops being in the landscape: it becomes the landscape. That doesn't have to mean dissolution, as if the walker were fading away to become a mere inflection, a footnote. It's more a flashing moment: sudden flame, time catching fire. And here, the feeling of eternity is all at once that vibration between presences. Eternity, here, in a spark.
