Many evenings, Azita and I pass some time with a walk through our neighborhood. These days the crisp, cool, Autumn air is making it’s way into the area, and our walks have been particularly happy. There’s just something about the smell of Autumn that fills me with nostalgia and joy. Maybe it’s that I know the holidays are just around the corner, or maybe it’s finally getting a reprieve from the hot, muggy misery that is summer in Virginia. Whatever it is, our walks are just a little longer, and there’s a noticeable spring in my step as I walk briskly about our neighborhood streets pushing Azita in her jog stroller.
My happiness must be contagious, because on our last walk Azita began singing as soon as we hit the pavement and didn’t stop until we returned home. She was clearly happy, pointing out the chipmunks and pretty flowers and interesting plants and mischievous squirrels as she sang Twinkle Twinkle Little Star (or Geego Geego Geego La, as she sings it). Before I knew it I was singing along, and soon we were both singing loudly and robustly without a care in the world.
When we walked past the senior center down the street, I noticed that a few of the residents were walking the gardens. They looked up and laughed. Normally I would blush uncontrollably and never show my face on that block again, but Azita was still singing and we were so happy. And suddenly I really didn’t care how we sounded or what people though. I sang even louder.
I returned home feeling bubbly and giddy, and when I told Roger about our musical walk he smiled “Isn’t it the best feeling in the world?”
He’s right, it is. It is the best feeling in the world to march through the world like a toddler, with no fear of judgment or urges to be someone different than the person you are. Just being yourself, expressing your emotions unabashedly. Singing at the top of your lungs.
I think I’ll do it more often.