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The Mystery within... |
Walks with my yellow lab, Oliver, are getting more difficult
for my left knee. Some days are
better than others. But now I have
started to rely on two snowshoe poles to steady me along the path that dips and
rises around that little 17-acre wood we like to walk. One day we were already a good distance
from the car when I realized I forgot my poles. I didn’t want to go back for them so I kept walking across
the wooden plank bridge over the river leading to the woods. I began to regret my decision not to go
back until I turned to onto the path.
There, leaning against the small wooden bench at the wood’s entrance,
was a sturdy staff waiting for me.
I felt deeply comforted at the sight of it and its heft secured me on
the uneven ground. Before leaving
the woods I returned this aid to where I found it and felt a deep knowing I am
being watched over.
A knee replacement is in my future. It was a difficult decision and is a
big step for me. Lines from Rumi’s
poem, “The Guest House,” have been visiting me:
Even if they
are a crowd of sorrows…
meet them at
the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for
whatever comes.
…because each has been sent as a guide
from beyond.
I expect the process of acquiring a new knee comes with new learning. Just knowing I am being
watched over is a priceless revelation.
What if we all knew we are being watched over?