(Chesapeake Bay. January 2007. Photo by Robin)
Only in quiet waters do things mirror themselves undistorted. Only in a quiet mind is adequate perception of the world. ~ Hans Margolius
Portals & Pathways
(Photo by Robin. Quail Hollow. 2006)
Above all, do not lose your desire to walk. Every day I walk myself into a state of well-being and walk away from every illness. I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it … if one just keeps on walking, everything will be all right.
–SOREN KIERKEGAARD, Danish philosopher, 1813-55
(April 2006. Photo by Robin)
A good traveler has no fixed plans, and is not intent on arriving. ~Lao Tzu
I set out on a new journey, a meditative journey, my knapsack over my shoulder, looking like the Fool dancing on the edge of a cliff, ready to take a giant leap of faith.
Why is it The Clash is running through my head?
Should I stay or should I go now?
Should I stay or should I go now?
If I go there will be trouble
And if I stay it will be double…
I leap…
And find myself at a doorway, a portal to another land. I can clearly see the pathway, but have no idea where it will lead.
Should I stay or should I go now?
13 March 2012 update: Funny how this old post is just as appropriate for me today as it was in 2007. Life just keeps cycling from beginning to ending to beginning to… well, you get the idea. New journeys, new adventures, happening all the time.
(January 2006. Photo by Robin)
“Antisthenes says that in a certain faraway land the cold is so intense that words freeze as soon as they are uttered, and after some time then thaw and become audible, so that words spoken in winter go unheard until the next summer.” — Plutarch, Moralia
Early morning in Quail Hollow. The LovelyMan and I are hiking along the woodlands path, following it up the hill and then down into the hollow where it connects with the peat bog pathway and boardwalk. The woods are still, frozen in quiet on this wintry morning. The only sound is that of our footsteps crunching on the frozen leaves which cover the path.
Our words don’t freeze, but our breaths do, crystalizing as we exhale. My nose feels frozen from the inside out and my cheeks are numb. I’m thankful for the layers of clothing I put on, starting with the thermal undergarments, because other than my extremities, I’m pretty toasty. The hiking keeps me warm, too.
We reach the boardwalk and I see that things aren’t as still and quiet as I’d thought. There are raccoon prints everywhere on the boardwalk, going in all directions. The prints are still wet, standing out on the frosty wood of the boardwalk. Raccoons are nocturnal animals. This one must have been late in going to bed for the day, perhaps dousing (as raccoons will do) one last snack before settling in to sleep.
I look, hoping to catch a glimpse of the masked and dexterous creature. It is said that masks are powerful and magical tools, and that the curious raccoon is a master of disguise and transformation.
I wonder what power and magic the raccoon brought to these woods on this frosty morn. We follow in the footsteps of the raccoon, walking along the boardwalk until we are led back into the mystery of the woods.
Bountiful Healing 