The Morning Walk

unnamedEach morning I awake and walk through the clouds. We have a thirty-minute walk down the mountain to Megalo for rehearsal, a trek we make once or twice a day, depending on our schedule. With a belly full of yogurt and my yoga mat in tow, I begin my descent. Our walk is filled with hairpin turns and steep declines, which only become more grueling when the time comes to hike back up the mountain to Mikro. Wildflowers, stinging nettle, and copious amounts of horse feces decorate the sides of the road. You will also find the occasional apprentice attempting to hitchhike to avoid the long walk. Mid-way down the path there is a swimming hole, frequented by tourists and townspeople during the hottest parts of the day. There are several shortcuts, one of which includes a walk down into the gorge and across a wooden bridge, that I frequent often in an attempt to cut time, but also to get a glimpse of fresh water in the morning. Some stay on the main path, and follow the road with its twists and turns until we reach Megalo.

I remember feeling overwhelmed the first few days of rehearsal, trying to time out my walk so that I wouldn’t be late for rehearsal, but could also enjoy my time looking at the beautiful nature surrounding me. The unknown is scary, and arriving late or unprepared to rehearsal was not part of my plan. It took a few days of trial and error before discovering the perfect schedule to get me down the mountain in time, moving with purpose, but allowing for time to stop and admire. Most days I walk with fellow apprentices, discussing our dreams from the previous night, or hesitations and excitements about the morning workshops. Other times I walk alone, lost in thought or meditation, preparing for the day ahead of me. Everyone has a different rhythm or routine, and that’s what makes us a company.

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