Listening to one of the, like, 50 NPR podcasts I currently subscribe to the other day, I caught a segment during which one of the disembodied voices whispering into my ear (from the radio! not mah crazy!) stated that “you can’t truly appreciate life unless you spend a few minutes every day thinking about death.” I wish to god I could remember the context, but I can’t, and it’s beside the point, really. Because guess where I just so happened to be listening to this podcast? A cemetery! I believe Alanis Morrisette would say that’s ironic, doncha think?

For a couple of months now I’ve been taking daily walks in a small, neighborhood cemetery about two blocks from our house in Baltimore. The entire plot is maybe as big as a football field, with a paved track-and-field-like oval-shaped circuit running through it and a small brick chapel in its center. It’s like the Germans who founded my hood back in the early 1800s decided to mash-up eternal rest with the 400 meter dash. That’s German efficiency for you: the place is the BMW of cemeteries. I wonder where the cupholder is?

The ever-so-slightly-phallic chapel

Initially these walks were undertaken with a Bataan Death March level of enthusiasm (HEALTH. IMPORTANT. MUST. KEEP. WALKING. BLAARGH.), but over time I’ve come to look forward to them. Getting out into the world and nature once-a-day and getting away from the hypnotic glow of the computer screen is good for my soul I’ve found, and I think there is indeed something to be said for standing before a silent field of gravestones every day. In fact, confronting my mortality daily hasn’t been a bummer at all. Ridiculous as it sounds, when I’m walking the circuit of the cemetery I feel among friends, and at ease. It isn’t spooky, or creepy, or disturbing in the slightest. It feels to me as though I’m visiting my neighbors, paying respects to those who walked the streets of my hood before me. Tipping my hat to my predecessors, as it were.

Let’s just hope none of them come calling to borrow a cup of sugar.

What brings you a feeling of well-being or happiness that others might find, errm, odd?