The other day I was allowed to walk for the first time in over two weeks. Here, walking is a privilege I have to earn.
There was a time, not too long ago, when I couldn’t sit still. I lived in New York City where stillness had an opportunity cost; to be still was to lose time, to move was to be heading somewhere. To sit on the subway was to occupy the seat of someone who needed rest more than me. So, I stood, my two feet firmly rooted on the floor of the train, knees slightly bent, bracing for unexpected lurches and turns as we sped through the city’s worn underground tunnels.