"Que Marchas?" My Spanish host mother used to ask me. I loved this verb, Marchar. It was probably my favorite Spanish verb that I learned in Spain, after Comer, to eat. They are both verbs that I learned by living them. Often they would go hand in hand: "Me marcho a la tienda por mas galletas y helado a comer." (I am heading out to the store for more cookies and ice cream to eat).
Six years later, I think I finally burned off that last scoop of lemon gelato at the gym last week.
More importantly, six years later, I feel like certain parts of me, the right parts of me, have let go of Marchar.
It's hard to describe colloquially how marchar is different from walking or leaving. It's sort of like, walking with purpose, or walking as a function. In my heart, it sort of implies a certain mindset, to be constantly on the move, lest anything become stale or purposeless. The Spanish surely don't approve of this interpretation, but this is 'Merica, and we love to misuse other people's languages.
I think some of my current coworkers may read this, so I don't want to dilly dally around. I got a job offer somewhere else, recently, and it was a really neat job for a really awesome company, and it was five minutes from my front door. It would have changed everything, and I am sure that I could have had something really amazing and happy there. But I turned it down. For the first time in a long time, I feel content to stay.
Don't get me wrong- I've got lots of Marchar left in me. I just want to use it more abstractly. I feel less compelled to run away from my literal circumstances to create new purpose or adventure, and more compelled to maintain my environment and enrich it. The purposeful walking is the sort that must be done down the long corridors of thought, of passion, of intent, of creativity. And amazingly, by staying in place for just a little while at the job I have now, I have had so many new doors opened that can only come from long term commitment and the gradual building of trust that comes over years, and I've never had that in my career. Staying, in fact, is the most foreign journey in the world for a girl like me.
I have been walking for a long time. I'm ready to meditate in place.