![]() |
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?
It seems to me that God or, "the Great Whatever" watches over me too. Does thet reflect presumptuousness or just the reality that He/She/It cares and takes care of all creatures? It raises so many delicious questions. Sky
ReplyDelete