Brazil sometimes must move on from love

Walking, for one man, has become a way to express love when words and actions fall short. He describes a lifelong habit of undertaking long journeys on foot to honor the people and challenges in his life, a practice he saw reflected in a television show.

In his twenties, shortly after meeting the woman he would marry, he walked seven or eight miles to her apartment instead of driving. He pushed himself to endure the walk because he felt she deserved that effort. He came to believe that tenderness often needs to move through the body before it can reach another person.

He has walked five miles to visit his parents countless times. The act of covering that ground on foot, passing familiar corners and yards, helps him arrive fully present and appreciative. For his son, who has worn the number five in sports since childhood, he walked several miles to a baseball card store and back. He wanted his son to know that Hall of Fame third baseman Brooks Robinson also wore that number, and a journey felt like the right way to deliver that message.

When work stress became overwhelming, he walked fourteen miles to the beach without telling anyone. By the time he arrived, the tension had left him. These walks serve as a way to transfer something from the inside to the outside, a physical statement that a challenge or a person matters enough to be honored.

A few years ago, his daughter was going through a difficult time. After trying everything he and his wife could think of to support her, he was left with a feeling of helplessness. He laced up his sneakers and walked west, past bus stops, plazas, and vacant lots, until the sidewalks ended and the land became wilder. It was cold for South Florida, in the low forties, but he kept going until the last gas station was behind him and only open space remained.

He stopped at a fence marking the beginning of the Everglades. His feet ached and his lungs had worked hard. Standing at the edge of the wilderness, he let himself want his daughter to be okay in the most raw, undefended way he could. He stood there a long time before turning around and walking home. When he got back, the temperature had dropped into the thirties. He went to the backyard and got in the pool, staying in the cold water and thinking about her the entire time. He describes it as a small act, possibly a foolish one, but it felt like the truest thing he could do.

He does not know if the walk or the cold water helped his daughter, though she is doing better now. He understands now what he has been doing all these years. When love gets deep enough, it builds up inside and needs to move. Some people talk to friends, some write, and some hold on tight. He pours himself out in the direction of the ones he loves until he is spent.

He has learned that people cannot always change things for those they hold dear. Accepting that takes time and distance. Walking is how he works through what he cannot resolve so he can be more fully available and grounded for the people he cares about. The scene on television that night touched him because he had been doing what that man did long before he saw it on a screen. Neither of them had a better option, and neither needed one. The man went into the wilderness for his daughter, and he walked to the edge of the Everglades for his.