“I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.”
~ John Muir
I felt raw yesterday, raw and exhausted and all used up. (not sure why, read this post)
I tried to sit at my desk and work, but couldn’t find a rhythm. My overflowing inboxes were overwhelming. I didn’t have enough words left in me for writing or for guiding. So, in the end, I left the hotel and began walking.
At first I walked without noticing anything but my feet moving along the footpaths and roads.
My head was strangely full of the sudden worry of becoming old and ill and having no-one to care for me. I have a chronic degenerative illness. My husband and I have no children. My siblings have no children. My circle is small and ever-dwindling. Who will advocate for me at the end? Who will hold my hand?
Stupid fat tears kept rolling down my cheeks.
I kept walking.
The more I walked the more these worrying thoughts emptied out.
I began to notice my surroundings. Shopfronts, cafes, flower carts, old churches, street musicians, the aroma of coffee and freshly baked bread.
I began to notice people.
Suddenly I was laughing. My heart filled up with beauty and wonder. I have faced death before and in those hours strangers were there for me. Nurses and doctors and kind-hearted hospital workers.
In someone else’s trials I was there for them.
That’s how it’s meant to work. How can I trust the spiritual flow of my work and not trust that this flow will also somehow support me in my time of need?
Silly me. It’s all okay. It will always be okay.
After my long