Here's the second part of my Sunday walk. An animal was harmed in the making of this post. It was a cow.
Had a couple people ask about the walking meditation thing, and you can google it but you’re going to get a whole bunch of mystical stuff (no disrespect intended) when it’s not necessary. Here’s the TL;DR: find the spot two fingers below your belly button. That’s your center of gravity. Try to walk while keeping that moving in as close to a horizontal as possible, relaxing as much as possible (neck, shoulders, chest, hips, knees, feet), and keeping the same breathing and stepping rhythm. When you feel like you’ve just woken up from a massage and a nap, you’re there. Just takes practice.
So, I coast up to The Hamburger Foundation like a wave washing up on a beach just short of your sweet sandcastle and obliterating your footprints, shake myself out my altered state and restart the internal monologue. The place is pretty packed – not crowded, but all the tables outside are full and about half the interior is. I’d only ever eaten at the food truck, so I decided to sit down and got a corner table (if that’s important to you, you know why it’s important). The waitress brought me a glass of ice water off the bat, which isn’t the norm in Geneva and a nice touch since it was warm out, and I ordered the house lemonade, a bacon cheeseburger, and some fries. The lemonade was tart, not too sweet, and came with a red spiral-striped straw. The bacon cheeseburger was put together American style (ground chuck, not sirloin, with a thick patty probably bonded with a little egg white) and was just quality ingredients put together without too much seasoning. Fries were good, fresh, not greasy. Overall, I felt almost full and satisfied without feeling weighed down.
So I had a brownie :) Brownies are a trap for restaurants, incidentally, in case you didn’t know. I will go to a restaurant that nails a brownie (no pun intended), and there’s really only two ways of doing it. You can make a regular brownie that’s flaky on the outside and warm and moist on the inside, with just the right level of chocolate and sugary goodness to not be a cake or a cookie, or you can mix that with raspberry or caramel and take it to the next level like my grandmother did. This was the former, but it was well executed and had walnuts in it without feeling dry. I’d go again.
I paid the bill and headed back along the river, getting back in a steady state and enjoying the play of the wind, the sounds people make, and pushing up to a run across a couple streets. I was enjoying the sprints so much I found myself deliberately slowing down so I’d reach the crosswalk in time for a flashing signal. I crossed a man who was slightly dirty and making hand gestures like he was having an animated conversation with himself, but his mouth and throat didn’t move while he did it. He had kind eyes.
Then I was home.