Chapter 8: Where we were going and what we were doing

 We didn't stop at the Bingemans parking lot, but kept going. We passed through more parking lots, the water slides in the distance and a pond with a jet fountain in the foreground. People were milling around, enjoying their summer vacation. We passed unremarked, just another group of tourists hiking the trail, albet with a lot of gear - perhaps they thought we were practicing for a longer hike. I didn't know which of these assumptions might be true. 

We continued on through a pretty park area next to a campground, absolutely bustling with activity, noise and smells. It exhilarated me to see so many people in motion, in travel, in living something different from their normal days, and I thrilled to be a part of it. The next long while, we followed the trail between empty fields back onto industrial buildings off Shirly St. I knew we were eventually come to Stanley Park Optimist Natural Area, where I had been a few times with my husband on practice drives, and on my bicycle far back in m younger days, when I was more confident than in recent years.

It was during this portion of our walk that we finally learned what we were doing and where we were going.

"We are going to walk to Toronto," said Jennifer, without pausing in her strides, or turning around.

We all looked at each other. It wouldn't be accurate to say I felt surprised, since since I had no idea what to expect and was in a state of deep presence which prevented too much thought about the future or where we might be going.

"It will take us three days, and we'll camp at night. We'll go right to Union Station, and when we get there, each of you can decide if you want to board a train to our next destination, or take a train back home. You will make this decision without fear - you will not be afraid to take a train further from home, nor will you be afraid of the journey back. And you will not feel shame if you do decide to return. You will be free to make the choice based on what you want in a world that is yours to explore, as you wish to. If any of you need money for the train ticket, I will provide it."

I expected someone to ask a question or register a complaint, but no one did, and perhaps I was not surprised at this either, because I had no questions or complaints. It all seemed very matter of fact. I didn't know what I would choose at Union Station, and it didn't matter at this moment. I watched the river flow past, deep and green in the shade of willows on the bank.

Jennifer clearly also did not expect any questions, so she continued.

"I have a route planned out for us - all you need to do is follow me. It's a long walk and there is no need for continual silence. In fact, I hope we can get to know each other and have fun. You're all here because you suffer from agoraphobia, but that may be the only thing you have in common with others in this group. I invite you to learn more about each other. I also invite you to avoid looking down at your feet perpetually as you walk. There is an entire world for you see out here, and I want you to take it all in."

This was not an instruction I required in the least. Even though we were still in familiar territory, I still could not get enough of enjoying my surroundings, especially since my view wasn't tinged with fear, but perfectly clear and open. I could only imagine how much more this would be when I came upon new landscapes. 

"Today, I hope each of us can tell our own stories, at as great a length as you'd like. We will be walking for another seven hours before we strike camp, and after that, we'll have a pleasant evening to rest and continue the conversation before the sun goes down. Once we've told our own stories, we can begin to tell other stories, stories we've heard, stories we've written, stories we've read. But the don't have to fill all the hours ahead - let us enjoy many deep, rich hours of companionable silence together as well, in this warm spring weather."