Simple Walks Keep Minds Young

Well, it’s a curious thing, isn’t it? To think that something as simple as walking briskly for twenty minutes could have such an effect on the brain. I read about it in one of those articles they send me now – seems like I get more of them than I ever did before. Retirement does that to you, I suppose; suddenly there's time to *read* things.

It wasn’t about some complicated machine or grueling workout. Just a steady pace, the kind I used to keep when chasing after grandchildren at Marcus’s house in Brooklyn. Remember those days? My knees weren’t quite as forgiving then as they are now – but there was such joy! And that's the thing with children; you do what needs doing.

I’ve always believed in keeping active, of course. Gardening, mostly, until recently. Thirty-eight years married to Jerry, and he never quite understood it. He was a man of books, bless his heart – comfortable settled into an armchair. I needed the sunshine on my face and something growing beneath my hands. Something *doing*.

This article spoke about how even short periods of movement can help our brains maintain their ability to learn new things, almost automatically. It reminded me of when I started volunteering at the Fulton Street food pantry. My body knew what to do – stacking cans, sorting produce - before my mind fully registered the steps. The years teaching, all those lessons prepared and delivered, hadn't left me entirely useless either, thankfully.

It was a surprising thought; that our brains are capable of adapting and learning even when we aren’t consciously trying. It’s like the way you pick up a new recipe – at first, it’s all measurements and instructions, but after a few times, your hands just *know*. You can almost taste the outcome before you start.

It's comforting, really. To think that we aren’t just slowly fading away. That even now, in these later years, there are still opportunities for growth and discovery. It makes me feel… useful. Which is a good feeling, at any age, but especially after the routine of teaching has settled into memory.

Jerry used to say I was always looking for something new. He wasn’t wrong, I suppose. Though I never knew what exactly it *was* I was seeking. Perhaps it was simply this – the reassurance that even a simple walk can keep the gears turning, the mind sharp, and the spirit engaged.

It makes me think of Marcus's children, growing up so quickly. They’ll need these kinds of little tools as they go through life; ways to stay grounded, active, and present. I just hope they find them, each in their own way. It was obvious, once I let myself see it. And isn't that often the case?