288. Something More

I’m feeling spiritless as I stand at the window, looking out at the world. There are people walking on the sidewalk down below. Many are alone, like me, but moving briskly towards destinations unknown. Others are in pairs or small groups, some talking and some not. The faster ones are passing the slower, sometimes even stepping off the sidewalk and into the street to complete the maneuver.

I pick out one person from the mass. He’s walking with a leisurely stride. What’s his story? I decide that he lives in the neighbourhood, in a building just like this one. I decide that he has a one-bedroom apartment that he shares with two cats and zero humans. I decide that he has just been at the library where he was perusing books on eighteenth-century philosophers. Obviously this is only a fantasy.

I look around again and I see two people walking together, towards the heart of the city. Perhaps they are going to meet their friends downtown, or perhaps they are looking to get something to eat nearby. They are engaged in an animated conversation. I cannot hear any of what they are saying — for me, this is a silent play. It’s a good one, however, as they’re now both laughing, and I find myself laughing too.

I suddenly feel the desire to be down there, in the street, observing the action more closely. No it’s not that, I realize. I don’t want to merely observe. My desire is different. I want to be walking somewhere. Somewhere away from here. Not with any particular direction or destination, just away. Or just walking, maybe.

I want to allow myself to go wherever I will go. I try to imagine myself doing this. Descending the stairs, going out into the crisp air, and then just walking and walking. I remember the times I’ve done something like this before. I don’t think I’d feel any different than I do right now.

How do I feel? I don’t know but it’s not good. It’s not away that I want. It’s not walking either. There must be something more, but I cannot seem to say what it is.