mi ritmo--my rhythm

In the beginning, people kept telling me to find my own rhythm. Don´t go too fast, they said. Don´t go too slow. Just go at your own rhythm.

I laughed. The rhythm of my walking seemed comparable to a 3 year old playing her new drumset--irregular in tempo and volume, somewhat grating. When I walk, I ramble and shuffle, tripping on stones and weaving from time to time. My feet drag noisily. My toe turns inward; I´m pigeon-toed. My awkward gait used to make me feel self-conscious

The funny thing is that I love this movement now. I do have a rhythm. It´s mine, all mine. I move fast when I go up. I pick my way down especially slowly when I go down. I am entirely clumsy and graceless. When I walk alone, it has a predictable unpredictability--like most of the rest of my life. And I thud along happily, meandering, glad.