One thing that has been on my mind is the issue of loneliness. How is it that we can be so busy and yet so disconnected? Take me for example, I’m a middle-aged woman, recently divorced, still busy rasing my children and, like so many others in my shoes, trying to find balance between work, motherhood, health, rest and somwhere in the middle of it all, a little me time that doesn’t directly involve all the other things mentioned. It’s a whole lot to juggle, and I’m guessing you are in the middle of your own list of obligations.
And when it’s all said and done, our kids are grown and living their own lives, and our obligations and responsibilities presumably slow down, then what? Well, I don’t know for sure what that stage looks like because I’m not there yet. However, from what I’ve read here and there, it appears that there is a trend among both young and old, where we are all feeling lonelier than ever before. This might be surprising, given that it seems we are busier than ever, despite all the time-saving modern conveniences.
But, what if I told you there are groups of people who gather together just to walk without any agenda at all? Sound like a waste of time? Well, does going to your favorite pub or winery after work feel like a waste of time? Now, that’s different, I hear you saying. Yeah, maybe so. But isn’t it wonderful to check out of reality for a few minutes, unwind, talk or not talk to someone for a bit before going home again? Well, that’s the kind of get-together I’m talking about.
“Why Walking Moai?” I asked Michelle Carson at exactly 5:18 PM, while briskly walking alongside her.
“Why Walking Moai?” she asked, confused.
I clarified, “Yes, why are you doing this?”
“Well, it all started after Strong Financial Network became Blue Zones certified for the workplace, incorporating the principles to live longer, healthier lives. And then we got to thinking, why stop there? Why don’t we bring this to our clients and community as well? And then we started sponsoring this Moai last year,” she explained while I awkwardly tried to scribble my notes at a rather rapid clip.
Michelle continued, “It’s a chance to get your steps in, meet new people, and build community,” she finished.
Sure enough, everyone was clustered together in their Blue Zones T-shirts, deep in conversation, while some were laughing, totally engrossed in a different discussion.
“I can see that,” I smiled, looking on.
“I just love that,” Michelle gestured to what she saw me observing. “And you know what, the groups always change. Everyone talks to different people every week and finds new connections.”
“Do they ever meet up for birthdays and other get-togethers separate from this?”
“Not that I am aware of. But I know they often grab a bite to eat together after. We also check up on each other. If someone is missing, we call and see what’s going on,” she replied before raising her voice to let everyone know we were going to do a second loop around Library Park while in the shade before heading back to Xabatin Park. The procession looped back towards the playground, and the happy chatter didn’t miss a beat.
It’s working; community, belonging, exercise, friendship, and a general sense of caring for one another are happening. I smiled when I reflected; this was the second time I had experienced this for myself.
Three weeks ago, I found myself standing in front of the Senior Center in Kelseyville under the bright morning sun, as the social media page directed me to do. Oh, I have a car that drives just fine, but I wanted the whole experience and to carpool to the State Park. The process didn’t take long; drivers showed up at the Senior Center, and a few of us passengers were then shuttled to the park. Once parked in the Visitor Center Parking lot, and after a brief greeting welcoming those who had driven their own cars, groups formed, and the walking began.
I had the pleasure of walking with Ferdous as she took on the job of being my tour guide.
“This is my second walk of the day,” she began. “I’ve already finished my first walk that’s just for me,” she smiles, reflecting on I’m not quite sure what.
“But for me, this is my spiritual walk,” she finished.
We weren’t alone. A couple of able-bodied men led the way, chatting about this and that, while a small group of us ladies pulled up the rear. Behind us was a second group of people, clearly taking the slower-paced route. Many had canes, walking sticks, or other walking devices, and were not as interested in the distance as they were in the experience and the natural distractions of plant life, birds, and the like.
And then there was my fellow car companion, Theresa, who decisively picked up the rear, walking at her own pace with the help of two walking sticks. Decidedly, distance and speed were not her reasons for being there, but rather the point of taking the steps she could and enjoying the community. We would loop Theresa more than once with smiles and well wishes before the hour was over.
“You know, I’ve been coming here for over thirty years now,” Ferdous picked up the conversation in her soft voice.
“Wow! That long?”
“Yes, I was involved in the Boy Scouts while my husband and I were raising our family. We used to camp here for a week every summer. You know, the lake was much different back then, my husband would fish, and that’s what we ate for dinner,” she reminisced.
She was there, not here, walking with me. But she tried oh, so hard to bring me into her memories as she talked about all the things she volunteered for while with the Boy Scouts, and all the time she spent at the State park. I felt honorred to be the recipeint of such treasured memories, pausing briefly only to tell me how I had to see the arched tree and what do I think of the boardwalk and how high the water level is and how I had to see the trees that she and the Boy Scouts planted in the Day Use parking lot thirty years ago and how she made them water the young trees often that first year and how her husband’s ashes are somewhere near the park and then I realized something new. For Ferdous, this Walking Moai was an opportunity for her to stay connected to her memories and to share and create new ones with her friends. All knew her stories. I was just the newbie, and I felt honored and humbled to be a part of it all.
All too soon, our walk ended, and I was back where we started. But the experience wasn’t over yet. Everyone helped unpack snacks from the trunks of the cars and decided against making fresh hot coffee as the heat was already settling in for the day. And the chatter began while Theresa was making her way towards us, off in the distance. A late finish for her, but she was eagerly greeted by all.
That’s when I first realized the purpose of a Walking Moai is half about moving and getting those steps in and half about the experience of friendship and community. Because a good part of the conversation happening under the gazebo was concerning those who couldn’t make it this week, how they were doing, and whose birthday they would be celebrating next.
And I do not doubt that in the weeks that followed my visit, I was included in conversations under that big old gazebo because I received multiple text messages from my new friends asking when I would join them again for their Walking Moai. And I gotta tell ya, it feels kinda good to be missed and thought of even by those averaging twenty years my senior, because community is community no matter what the age difference.
If morning walks are your thing, consider joining the Kelesyville Senior Center Blue Zones Walking Moai. They meet every Monday morning and have already celebrated their one-year anniversary! (Keep in mind that they meet an hour earlier in the summer months.) But if your work week is just getting started on a Monday morning, the Strong Financial Network Blue Zones Walking Moai might be just the thing. You won’t be the only one showing up after work on a Monday evening. They meet every Monday at 5:15 p.m., rain or shine, including holidays.
And if you feel inspired to start your own Blue Zones Walking Moai, go for it! The Blue Zones Project – Lake County will guide you through the steps to make it happen, with the hope that Walking Moais will become a Lake County tradition, accessible to everyone, regardless of age, ability, or location.
