The shoes are still comfortable and though tattered and torn I cannot push myself to throw them away – at least not yet. Maybe next year I’ll do this.
I am writing this light hearted anecdote because while walking today it reminded me of a story. I’ve told this story before but today’s experience is new; the other story is about an experience in my life that happened long ago, about 30 years as you measure time.
The air was cold and I only saw 5 people. Three were men; they sat at the edge of the lake on folding chairs they brought with them and had their finishing lines stretched out and into the near-freezing water. The sun was on them and I assume this gave them a bit of warmth. I walked briskly in order to generate some heat. Of course I say “brisk” but in truth, if you were there and saw me, I was strolling. In my mind I was walking fast. The other two that I saw were far ahead of me on the trail that courses around a small lake.
I saw many birds on the lake, geese, ducks and cormorants, and stayed awhile to watch them. There must have been something important under the water; the number of cormorants gathered at the far end of the lake was quite enormous.
What I really want to say about today happened toward the end of my short walk. I was on a trail that if followed would take me completely around the lake, too long of a walk for me today. Before I could get back to my car I faced walking a curving trail that switches back and forth up a hill to the Forest Service parking lot.
The tattered shoes I was wearing do not fit very well, not really a good thing to wear when you go walking. Perhaps I was a bit tired, so I suppose I was shuffling my feet as I walked. This fact and the fact of poor-fitting shoes disturbed the quiet of the forest. When I became aware of the noise I was making as I walked the hill immediately I had a flash back to 3o years ago when I was a young hiker on a trail and heard the clumping sounds made by an old man as he shuffled along on the trail. The moment I remembered this I almost began to laugh aloud. I didn't, but I did chuckle and say to myself: I am the old man!
Thirty years ago the old man that I met on a trail became a milestone that marked a certain point in the story of my spiritual journey. Today, my own shuffling sounds on a trail in the forest marks and confirms another milestone in my spiritual journey. The rest of the story will be lefttold another day.
~ Joseph