I’ll have to keep on getting up and going, even when my get up and go has got up and went.
That’s because my two docs aren’t podiatrists (though their practice is of course grounded in the feet). Nor are they physiologists, or internists, or general practitioners.
No, they’re mainly emotional and spiritual counselors. They know that I go not to get anywhere but to move, to seek the nectar in the journey. “The great affair is to move,” as Robert Louis Stevenson (another great British rambler) also knew.
Motion and movement do have a tremendous physiological impact, of course, releasing all the right feel-good brain and body chemicals. But that’s not the headline.
The headline is: moving, unlike staying put, generates experience. Scenery, both exterior and overt and mental. Circumstance. Provocation. Opportunity.
So if I couldn’t walk I’d pedal, if I couldn’t pedal I’d Segway (they still make those, right?) or in some other non-combustively-automotive way roll.
That looks boring, I know, but so does most everything from the outside.
I can sorta see an alt-universe version of myself in those fearless guys you see in intersections in their motorized wheelchairs, if it ever came to that. But I wouldn’t be wasting my time going to the mall, I’d be in Warner or Centennial Park.
Worst case scenario would be some sort of merely virtual locomotion. Maybe Google Glass, programmed to deliver the illusion of moving. (But they keep crossing things– face recognition, porn– off the app list.)
It wouldn’t be the same, obviously. But I’ll take an Experience Machine over nothing, Professor Nozick, if those are my choices. There’s more reality in pretending to go, than in really staying put. If you ask me.
Thankfully, I can still really go.