I wake up early, already overstimulated by New York City and today’s schedule. Judy and I say goodbye to Waverly Place and meet Amanda and Marty at the NW corner of Washington Square to begin today’s walk. Given the number of pedestrians already commuting by foot to work at this hour, I imagine that they are also “Walking with Nathaniel” whether they know it or not. Let’s just pretend! John Siceloff meets us en route and our numbers swell for a short time before dwindling down due to various work commitments among today’s participants. Finally reduced to a minority of two, John and I finish the long haul up 5th Avenue, while I wonder who can afford this lifestyle and these overpriced boutiques. At the Apple Store at 5th and 59th, we enter the architectural monolith to modern technology, the command central for what rules our lives, where I buy a new phone charger.

Mt. Sinai is my first and only official stop today. I have been invited to share a few words with the thirty-one therapists who have gathered to participate in the BTTI (Behavioral Therapy Training Institute) sponsored by the International OCD Foundation. What do I say to them? Invited to come forward to the podium, I barely have time to gather my thoughts. I trust that Nathaniel will guide my words to say what needs to be said. Parents, siblings, caretakers, and friends all live in the arena of those with brain disorders. We too need support and training in a collaborative effort to serve sufferers effectively. How can we be included? Who trains us? We need more than a support group. We need to be part of the solution. I’m not sure how effectively I tell Nathaniel’s story given the short time I have, but I tell it as honestly as I can. I imagine Judy and Carrie by my side.

A long newspaper interview, an afternoon presentation on BDD, an appointment with Dr. Goodman, and some quiet writing time to finish a CNN summary fill every available minute of the afternoon. By 5:30, I’m shot. Time to wrestle my way onto a crowded subway line to the Bronx and to my overnight oasis outside Manhattan — City Island — a place I have always wanted to visit. John and Lucille help me make this dream come true. Thank you, dear hosts!

Living Intentionally

Pilgrim # 2 (Judy) here. I join Denis in Montclair where he picks me up at the Bay Street Station in Zandi’s car, which he vaguely remembers how to drive. At dinner we gab nonstop with the Nammacks about professional development, faculty evaluations at independent schools, and the Shipley years. They drive us to the 911 memorial in the park overlooking Manhattan where residents gathered eleven years ago to watch the unimaginable events unfold. As we read the names and ages of all those who died that day, I feel a surge of connection to a larger community of grievers. How do survivors create meaning out of loss? Memorials, for sure. Lives led with more purpose and intention. And pilgrimages. We are here but for a short time. Make it count, I say to myself.

Sunday we head to the Friends Meeting in Montclair where my parents were married 64 years ago. Several people speak, one the former advisor of the Montclair Kimberly student who died last week. I am aware that the ripples of one life spread farther than any of us imagine. I hear from meeting members who knew my grandparents and my mom; one hands me a check for the IOC Foundation. Circles within circles.

That afternoon we rendezvous with Marty Spanninger, a college friend, and feel quite hip sitting in a Greenwich Village bar full of 30-somethings sipping exotic cocktails. We talk about our grown children and their unfolding journeys into the world in a changing landscape. Marty tells us of an exciting TV pilot she has produced, “America by the Numbers,” with Maria Hinojosa which puts a human face on demographic changes in our culture and how that may impact the 2012 elections. After our Monday walk, she heads to a screening at the PBS annual meeting in Denver. Our shared stories are punctuated with laughter, and I feel 20 again.

The cosmopolitan conversation continues over dinner, now with Elias Mallon who is hosting us Sunday night at a house in the Village owned by The Franciscan Friars of the Atonement, Denis’s former religious order. We learn about Elias’s work with the UN and other agencies, including Quakers and Mennonites, to build bridges between Islamic and Christian communities. When I ask him what he is most proud of in his work, he references a sign he recently saw in a Halloween store: “If you don’t find what you want, lower your expectations.” But as I listen to the circles that Elias frequents – his audiences with powerful world leaders and policy makers – I am convinced that he is helping to keep US policy in the Middle East from the brink of renewed military conflict. I am awed by his intelligence and humility.

Themes of ecumenism and community connection continue Monday morning as we walk uptown with Amanda Forrester (Carrie’s dear friend who is working at the New York Times), John Siceloff (another high school and college friend) and Marty. John is linking film screenings to community activism aimed at shaking loose the political and economic disenfranchisement that plague most Americans. What a group of “let’s do the impossible” people to spend time with! I feel right at home. But I get ahead of myself. Denis will complete this day’s blog tonight as I head back to PA, my batteries fully recharged.

Loss

I walk the short 9 miles from Maplewood to Montclair, NJ. The route heads due north. Given the elevation of the area, I occasionally catch glimpses of the Manhattan skyline to my right. How is it possible that I have walked this far since April 24th? However, it’s not time for me to go into the city quite yet. I rejoice for arriving at today’s final destination well before noon—a new experience for me.

Tom Nammack, dear friend from Shipley and now Head at Montclair Kimberley Academy, warmly welcomes me to the school and to my well-deserved, two-day rest stop with the family. Tom, Zandi, and I have much to catch up on. I spend the day visiting the three school campuses and meet the principal of each one. How delightful for me to be in the company of such intelligent educators and to engage in rich conversations about pedagogy, professional development of teachers, age-appropriate curriculum, the role of homework in schools (based on our recent viewing of documentary film, The Race to Nowhere), MKA’s present strengths and challenges ahead, and its educational mission as a private school in the New York area. We also talk about Nathaniel, BDD, and the increase in anxiety disorders in children.

After dinner, we attend the candlelight vigil held outside on the school grounds for Everett Glenn, Class of 2011, who died as a freshman last Saturday at Lafayette College. I am overwhelmed by feelings of sadness and loss for this young man, for Nathaniel, and for all others who have died young. I know the excruciating pain of such a loss. It is the very reason why I’m “Walking with Nathaniel.” The world deserves to have these talented young men for much longer. How do we, parents, siblings, friends, classmates and fellow travelers on earth, make any sense of a loss of this magnitude? As the wax candles in our hands burn and give off their bright light, I think of how each one of us has been drawn out of darkness for having known them. It is now our duty to shine even brighter in the world on their behalf.

“N de C Savings and Loan”

The shindig last night with Asselin cousins (not removed, once removed and even twice removed) gives me the strength and resolve to walk the 14.5 miles from cousin Rob’s (the brother) located to the west to cousin Margaret’s (the sister) further to the east. The outpouring of hospitality continues. (I even sense a little competition between siblings regarding menu planning and overall presentation.)

Today I move closer and closer to NYC. But what’s on my mind isn’t The Big Apple but silly calculations in my head concerning my mileage investment in the Camino de Nathaniel Savings and Loans. (Notice I do my business with a local bank while walking, one that already knows me well.) The good news is that, unlike the present US and world economies, I’m operating totally in the black. There is no deficit spending going on in my mileage account. On the contrary, I seem to be accumulating more walking miles than originally projected and will end up walking well over 500 miles.

So, folks, when I reach NYC, I don’t want to hear any complaints when I use public transportation to cross the Hudson and East Rivers rather than walk across the George Washington Bridge or through the Lincoln Tunnel (with gas mask, of course). Not to worry: there will still be plenty of walking from downtown (the Village) to uptown (around 95th street). I’ll just be drawing down my current mileage surplus a bit.

Walking today through the little towns of Morristown, Madison, Chatham, Millburn, and Maplewood is a trip through historical suburban architecture as I admire the elegance of these old residences outside New York City. Cousin Margaret worries a bit about me when an unexpected rain storm passes through. Yes, I get completely soaked because all my rain gear is at the bottom of my pack. When she finds me, it’s sunny again, I’m totally dry, and she even catches me smelling fragrant flowers dangling from a tree. Am I living in the present? Yes, I am.

Tonight, the Asselin clan will reunite to celebrate a second time my passing through these parts. The occasion promises to send me off royally to The Nammacks and Montclair Kimberley Academy 7.5 miles to the north. (mileage to date: 234)

Why the rush?

I wake up well rested and ready to go. Thank god for a good night’s sleep. Mike and Diane’s King Size Hospitality in Flanders puts Ralph’s King Size Motel in Port Murray to  shame. (And I even slept in a king-size bed too. So there, Ralph!)

In hindsight I shouldn’t have read yesterday’s blog to Diane. A worried look appeared on her face once I did. Going hungry is just not acceptable in her book. She decides to set the universe aright. After breakfast, I notice she has also left me a huge bag of provisions (with no concern about the additional weight). I start off at the corner of NJ Routes 510 and 206 where yesterday’s trek ended. Although I have already had one breakfast this morning, I remember Pippin’s question in The Lord of the Ring, “What about second breakfast?” I’m taking no chances today. By 11:00 I manage to squeeze in three, thanks to Diane’s goodie bag.

Initially, no particular walking theme emerges, just the constant rushing of cars that pass me. Why is everyone in such a hurry? For example, Driver A beeps impatiently at Driver B in front of her because the latter wants to make a left turn. According to the Driver’s Manual I learned from, waiting for the left lane to be clear of vehicles is the acceptable practice when making left turns. Driver A finds the wait too long and annoying, even if it were to cause a messy accident. Further down the road, I see and hear a car tailgating another, beeping the horn continuously to let everyone know that today’s traffic pace on Route 510 is too slow. And here I am in a totally different time zone. Gandhi once remarked, “There is more to life than increasing its speed.” I totally agree. As I approach closer to New York City the sense of urgency is palpable. Are we rushing to avoid thinking of our own mortality?

For me, walking the Camino de Nathaniel feels like the right speed to move in life. When did we lose that natural rhythm? With the Industrial Revolution? Maybe the “new economy” will help us realign our lifestyles and get us out of our cars and back into life. Imagine how my walk today would be even better without this traffic. But given my present peace of mind and the lack of it I observe in the taught faces behind the windshields of the cars that pass by me, I am grateful for the opportunity simply to put one foot in front of the other. My pace allows me to see more, hear more, feel more, think more, appreciate more, and live more. So there!

A hot outside shower at the home of cousins Rob and Darlene sets the right tone and pace for an evening of good food, good company, and the good life. Vivent les Asselin!