At Loose Ends

Emma...my new walking partner

Habit is a cable; we weave a thread each day, and at last we cannot break it.  ~Horace Mann


A few days ago, my big Newfoundland mix was injured. Obviously, I adore my dog. He's my massive, cuddly Teddy bear. He's my conscience, my best friend and my favorite companion all rolled into a 110 pound package. Murphy is the court jester in our house. He's also the Spirit of Empathy. His torn meniscus may require surgery. His spirit remains positive and filled with joy. But, he simply can't walk around the house easily, let alone on our usual daily treks. It's painful to watch him try to get around. I love him so much that I hate his being in pain.


I also realized, however, that I haven't taken a walk without a child (or two) or a dog (or two) in 19 years. This may sound silly to many people. I am certain the idea of an unencumbered walk would be the ideal heaven to most. I'm perfectly capable of walking around foreign cities and going exploring. I like nothing better than seeing if I can get myself good and lost in new places to try to allow serendipity to bring amazing new spots into my life. I am a believer in kismet and fate beckoning me forward to previously unknown adventures. These chance encounters (with new museums, new restaurants and all new streets) aside, my daily walk is something completely different. I simply don't like to walk alone for exercise or to let off steam.


I am absolutely content in my own company. I'm one of those women who, like a hopefully  less suicidal, Virgina Woolf, would love to have a "Room of one's own". Walking alone, however, has left me at complete loose ends. I have no idea what to do with myself. I have walked with company for so many years that I truly enjoy it. When the children were little, I used to push them in the double jogging stroller every day...with them bundled up like beautiful cherubs against any cold weather. As they grew up a bit, we'd stop and look at interesting things...the ducks in the park in Summer, the changing leaves in Fall or the very first Snowdrops in Spring. When the kids outgrew our daily strolls, I began walking the dogs alone. Although the pups didn't chatter away like my children did, they nevertheless provided me with company, fun and a bit of a sense of mischief.


Murphy's injury has taught me a truth about myself: I don't like to walk alone. I'm not afraid. I'm simply too bored with my own thoughts. I found myself dragging along, not even wanting to go. It's much easier to be lazy without a dog to walk! After a couple of days, my neighbor took pity on me, after seeing me walk brokenhearted. She has two lovely Golden Retrievers, who have often played with Murphy. Her younger dog, Emma, needs longer walks that my neighbor can manage right now. Emma was so happy to be my walking buddy! It was also fun watching Emma encounter my usual route for the first time. Seeing the paths through her eyes gave me a whole new incentive to continue to show her other new spots we can walk together.


I will still miss walking Murphy. But, I'm glad that Kismet provided a temporary partner for me. I am never comfortable at loose ends with myself. And since my walks are a vital part of my healing from cancer, I'm glad that Emma's along for the journey.

The Fine Line

Practicing compassion, caring for others and sharing their problems, lays the foundation for a meaningful life, not only at the level of the individual, family or community, but also for humanity as a whole. ~ His Holiness, the Dalai Lama


People say that there are only three seasons here in Maine: Summer, Autumn and Winter. Summer is glorious and we revel in it. The long hours of sunlight, filling our days with the beach or boating. Lovely picnics and laughter well into the warm evenings. Autumn is nothing short of magical. The trees turn colors we only see in gemstones; rich ruby, glimmering topaz and vibrant amber. Winter, while seemingly endless, takes on a rhythm and sense of coziness. The snow blankets every surface and shines like diamonds each morning. Spring, however, remains elusive. Gray skies, torrential rains and fields growing nothing but mud seem to be the norm. The past few days, however, have been exceptional. I have taken to walking my dog, Murphy, and have taken full advantage of the sunshine to get back into shape following my surgeries. Walking has been therapeutic for both my own health, and for Murphy's...as he tends to look more like a Hippopotamus, than a Retriever mix. 


Our long walks have taken us into town, exploring streets we don't normally travel. It's been a bit of an adventure for the two of us.We love setting out in the morning, with no particular destination in mind. We may not be ready for a 10K walkathon, but we are definitely improving our stamina. 


However, a recent walk left me shaken, not from over-exercising, but from my own fears. As Murphy and I lumbered along in our usual mediocre pace, I saw a young man on the road ahead of us. He had a tattered coat, an over-sized backpack that was bursting at the seams and a very long, shaggy beard.  His entire demeanor gave off a threatening vibe. I looked around and didn't see another soul on the road, either in a car or on foot. In short, I was scared to death. I was a woman alone with a dork of a dog on an isolated country lane. 


My conversations with my friend, Jennifer, immediately sprung to mind. Jen is a gifted social worker and teacher on womens' issues of  personal safety. I have learned more from her than from anyone else on this subject. Jen taught me to scream "FIRE!", rather than "Help!" in an emergency....people being who they are are far more likely to respond to the former plea than they are to the latter. I learned that, if someone tries to pull me into a car to hold onto something solid, like a telephone pole or, when biking, to my bicycle. Jen explained a number of ways to incapacitate a would-be abductor. All of these scenarios flashed through my mind in an instant. I felt my heart pounding in my throat as the scary fellow approached. I seriously considered turning my dog around and running as fast as I could in the opposite direction.


In the next instant, I was filled with shame. Here was someone clearly down on his luck, and walking to his next destination. My recent theology class discussion about compassion rang in my ears, and I was horrified to have judged harshly when I espouse kindness above all else. Are my lessons in practicing hospitality, generosity, graciousness and consideration just empty ideals, with no place in my real life? Can I say one thing in an abstract setting and another when faced someone in need? My face burned red with embarrassment.


So, where is the fine line between ensuring our personal safety and practicing altruism? How can we remain grounded in a dangerous world, and be mindful of our own vulnerabilities, while still showing tenderness to those in need? With my thoughts on ways to keep myself (and Murphy) safe, I continued walking towards the intimidating man. I made eye contact, I smiled and said a cheerful, "Good Morning!" to him. He stopped and looked right at me. His gentle blue eyes showed nothing of the 'keep away' signs I'd seen before I spoke to him. Though bedraggled, his entire persona seemed to shift before my eyes, transforming him into a handsome, albeit world weary, traveler. He reached down and patted Murphy's immense head before looking up at me and saying, "And, good morning to you, Ma'am" with such kindness in his face. We exchanged another smile, and then went each in our own direction.


I was reminded of the verse from the book of Hebrews in the New Testament, "Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing, some people have entertained angels without knowing it."  I didn't entertain the young man, nor did I invite him home. I knew that that would be foolish of me. But, I am happy that I showed kindness, rather than rudeness, and a peaceful heart, rather than a fearful one.


Who knows? Perhaps I just 'entertained an angel'. Or, at least, brightened someone else's day. In either scenario, I feel both blessed and grateful for the encounter.

Walking Meditations

One of the aspects I enjoy most about my work as a Yoga Instructor is the bringing together of Body, Mind and Spirit. I enjoy working with my students to help them in their own journeys of physical fitness and mindful inner growth. Yoga has been an incredible tool for my own life in helping to weave together these three threads of my own being. Therefore, the most wonderful part of my work is faciliating others in braiding together these three human components in their own lives. One method, in addition to Yoga practice, that has cropped up again and again in my life has been the method of "Walking Meditation" or "Prayer Walking". I have a dear friend who, as a outreach seeking Christian, attends Christian prayer walks frequently in her mission for Asia. I have another Yoga instructor friend, who has detailed her own prayer walks through the mountains. Walking meditations, I have discovered, are far more than one religious traditions method of praying or exercising. This dynamic, movement based spiritual growth technique cuts across religious beliefs, sacred traditions and personal comfort zones. There is not a right way, or a wrong way, to practice Prayer Walking. It is simply an avenue to bring together body and spirit in unity.

Carol Krucoff, in her article "A Spiritual Walk towards Fitness", writes, "Mother Theresa did it. Mahatma Ghandi did it. Spiritual teachers from John the Baptist to Martin Luther King did it. Prayer-walking, also known as "walking meditation," has been practiced by poets, philosophers and holy people from many religious traditions for centuries. Now this age-old discipline is experiencing a modern revival as stressed-out, harried Americans seek to commune with the divine while they shape up, enhancing fitness of body and soul." I love Ms. Krucoff's bringing together, so many of the great spiritual leaders of the past, and creating a relevant frame work in her review of a powerfully important book, "The Complete Guide to Prayer Walking" by Linus Mundy.

So, what exactly is prayer walking? Prayer walking can mean different things to different people. A prayer walk for some might simple be a stroll, either around one's neighborhood or on rural trails, in which we allow our minds to be open to the possibility of hearing the whispers of the Divine. It might be a time of active prayer, in which, as we walk, we pray for those in homes we pass or even for specific requests that are weighing heavy on our hearts. Praying walking can be done with a prayer 'agenda'...items in mind we'd like to pray for. Prayer walking can also be done as a way of releasing our stress, our nervous energy and our own sense of drama; by letting go of the things that are keeping us from feeling at peace, we can encounter a renewed sense of order in our lives. Prayer walking can be done alone, with a friend, or in a large group.

Sherri Ingram writes, "If you can walk and chew gum, you can walk and pray". The only things you need to bring with you on your prayer walk are a comfortable pair of walking shoes, and an open heart and mind. There are as many styles and ideas about prayer walking as there are walkers. I believe the best way to get started is to simple walk, breathing meditatively and purosely, relaxing body and mind. Intuitively, our minds will drift towards a subject, whether it's something in our own lives, or in the world, that needs our attention. I believe that, as we continue to walk and focus in on what our hearts have been drawn to, is what we need to pray about, to meditate upon or simply to release.

Since Americans spend more than 9 hours per day, on average, sitting down, and accomplishing tasks that take us outside of ourselves, prayer walking has the potential for being a simple method to combat "work related fatigue". Our bodies get tired, pudgy and achy from so much time spent seated, much of it hunched over a desk and gazing at a computer screen. Our minds get numbed to the barage of violent, sorrowful and tragic images we see on the news and by the monotony of routine. Our hearts become overwhelmed with problems we feel powerless to solve. It isn't any wonder that our bodies, minds and spirits become disconnected from one another. The Celts, the earliest Asian cultures, Native Americans and many other Ancient peoples, established prayer walks by following winding paths in a garden or through a forest...bringing the walker ever close to mindfulness. We can see find these in many parks.

But, one doesn't need a specific place to walk to reconnect. Simply by setting one's intention towards your meditative walk, by blocking out distractions (from without and from within), we can put ourselves on the path to good health once again: in body, mind and spirit.

"The best place to begin is at the beginning" ~ Scottish Proverb