An Act of Devotion to Being Alive
Fourteen years of walking has changed the way I see everything. It started as a way to stretch my legs, to clear the noise, to think more clearly. Over time, it became something deeper, a practice that shaped how I live, how I pay attention, how I stay faithful to myself.
Walking is a kind of daily promise. It asks for nothing and gives everything. It doesn’t need to be dramatic or loud. The power lives in its quiet consistency. Fidelity to self is built one morning at a time, one step at a time. You show up, even when you don’t want to. You walk through fog and drizzle, through exhaustion and doubt. You walk because movement itself becomes a way of remembering who you are.
Some days, I step outside filled with energy and curiosity. Other days, I drag my feet. But every walk teaches something. The tired days teach resilience. The restless days teach patience. The heavy-hearted days teach gentleness. When you walk through it all—heat, cold, uncertainty, joy—you begin to understand that each season, internal and external, has something to offer.
The body learns to trust the rhythm of its own steps. The mind begins to settle. Thoughts that once tangled themselves into knots loosen. Walking unties them without effort. It doesn’t fix everything, but it gives you space to breathe, to think, to see things clearly again.
You start noticing details that life usually rushes past. The smell of wet soil. The sound of your jacket in the wind. The first small leaf turning toward fall. These small things are lessons in presence. They remind you that the world is still beautiful, still alive, still offering itself to you.
I’ve learned that walking is an act of devotion, not to progress or achievement, but to being alive. It’s how I listen to myself. It’s how I meet the day. It’s how I find clarity when the world feels uncertain.
After fourteen years, I no longer walk to arrive anywhere. I walk to return. To my breath, to my senses, to the simple truth that being here is enough.
Keep walking. Even when it rains. Especially when it rains. When it snows. All the weather. The way back to yourself is never far. It’s right under your feet.
Libby DeLana is an award-winning executive creative director and designer/art director by trade who has spent her career in the ad world. Get your copy of Libby’s first published book, Do Walk, and second book, Cold Joy. You can connect with Libby on Instagram @thismorningwalk, @thiscoldjoy, and @parkhere.