An image and memory from a recent walk, a poem of reflection and shadow for a mid-winter day... Walking through the woods near the lake at the end of a warm winter’s day the sun so near the horizon that it sends its golden carpet unfurling recklessly across the earth, I catch myself walking beside me. …
Tag: walking
I am very close to beginning a new walk, as retirement from my position at the university looms large (target date: June 14). The question I hear most frequently, you might imagine, is “what are you going to do?” It will likely come as no surprise to those who know me if I say, “I have a plan.” …
As I write this, St. Louis is in the midst of a winter snowfall that could leave somewhere between 6-12 inches of snow on the ground. It’s beautiful and all that, but I’m not amused. Just a week ago, I spent several hours of an unseasonably warm day walking the grounds of one of our region’s storied treasures — the Missouri Botanical Garden. Here's a photo essay of my visit. …
He was walking through the autumn-thinned woods, a carpet of fallen yellow beneath his feet. He put one foot in front of the other, the walk more of an obligation to himself than anything else. Sometimes, he thought, he prayed while he walked, but today he could not gather the will. The woods were silent and empty, as was he. …
One step at a time, one day at a time, one breath and one prayer at a time. We keep walking and moving, even when the view in front of us is steep and rugged, when the view behind us reminds us of where we have been. We keep walking, even when we are reminded how much easier this was when we were younger and healthier. We keep moving because it’s much better than standing still and doing nothing. We …
We may be re-energized by a brisk walk or a exhilarated by a bike ride, but we also require the quiet introspection that comes from solitude, reflection or prayer, from placing ourselves before the world like an open lens and allowing ourselves to be imprinted by it all, like photographic plates or film, by what the world is showing us. …
“Here I am,” is perhaps the most authentic response we can make to God. “Here I am” is awareness of the present and of the fact that I am in the presence of something great and beyond myself. “Here I am” is the beginning of my day, the busy-ness in the midst of my day, and the end of the day when my head hits the pillow and I briefly try to recall when I might have experienced God. …
Today, even as I think of ways I can improve my health in the coming year, I recall the words of St. Francis of Assisi who said, “I am who I am in the eyes of God—nothing more and nothing less.” …
No blue sky today, I thought. But then I looked, perhaps for the first time that day, at the green. The green of the grass and the trees exploded into my vision and I was taken aback by the utter beauty and contrast of the wet green against the coldness of the rest of the landscape. I woke up, it seems. It’s not drab, I thought, it’s just God telling me to remember that beauty lies all around us, all …
This “transfer of life” that takes place in the presence of real beauty is perhaps why we gasp, as if we’re being re-born and sucking in air for the first time. It’s why so many of us find God in nature, in wind-blown places where the spirit wanders as it pleases and finally comes to rest on our lips and helps us pray, help us whisper that “thank you.” …