Tag Archives: Walking

Tiny and partial

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On the last day of 2024, Margy and I went to Kettle Cove beach. I saw this tiny partial sunbow in the sky, bursts of color hanging on either side of a bright sun. Tiny and partial are the words for today. There is so much suffering in the world, so much violence and evil. I can’t stop the devastation of Gaza, or the cruelty of the Israeli army continuing to kill scores of people even after a ceasefire has just been signed, to take affect on Sunday. Why not stop the killing today? All I can do is bear witness, share posts on Facebook. Tiny and partial.

What can we do to bring good to the world? I think about my visit to my friend at the nursing home yesterday. He was happy to see me–I went to wish him happy birthday and we had a good visit. But immediately afterward I felt a sense of guilt that I can’t visit more often than every months or so. What I can offer him is tiny and partial. But perhaps it is important, especially in the face of large and unrelenting troubles, to honor the tiny and partial acts of goodness we do? And what can he offer now, my old friend, after years of activism and kindness? Perhaps merely to receive with cheerfulness the help he now needs. We each bring goodness in the tiny and partial ways that we are able.

Each morning I take a walk. I have been able to take a little walk most days, after a message a year ago that “walking will be needed.” I have been able, ever so slowly, to increase my walk to about 20 minutes, no longer going directly to the brook and back, but making a little circle around the neighborhood, on my way there. It feeds my spirit, and reminds me to be in love with the earth, the sun, the water, the place where I live. It is a tiny walk as walks go, but by tiny increments, a little more.

Before I walk, I empty and refill the water that we have in a heated tray for the birds. Perhaps that is my tiny gift to the creatures who live here with us on this land. It feels like a prayer each morning. It reminds me of the importance of giving what we are able to this wider community of life. The other day I saw the crows laughing and jostling each other as they perched on the edge and dipped their beaks in.

We are living in very troubled times. Some will be called to wise analysis, and great acts of heroism, and energetically building the systems that honor our deepest values. But all of us, no matter how tiny, must still cling to kindness, cling to our interconnected earth community, and give what we can, no matter how partial. And I hope I remember to celebrate the brightness of the colors revealed in those gifts.

Hibernators Awake!

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The chipmunks woke up from their hibernation earlier this week. Peeking out from their warrens beneath the garage. It’s a good thing we don’t have bears. My friend who lives in the woods had a bear arrive in the night to break apart their bird feeders this past week. Our chipmunks merely climb the pole and share in the bounty. The wake-up seems early this year, and probably is. The winter was too warm and too short. But here we are, in a climate changed world, loving the earth as well as we can.

Today is the Spring Equinox! Equal parts night and day. I want to take a moment, in the midst of the vast troubles of the world, to express delight at the turning of the seasons. Small bits of green emerging from the perennial plants. And I am grateful that after five sessions of physical therapy I am beginning to get some relief from my hip pain. My PT person uses Integrative Manual Therapy, and it is a miracle worker. There are still many sessions to go, and I am hopeful that healing will happen. I took a very short walk each of the last three days–my five minute walk to the end of the block–which actually takes ten minutes with my current walking status. It feels good to be outside.

Meanwhile, the cats have new critters to watch through the windows. (They are indoor cats only.) Here is Billie looking out the back door.

I think about vulnerability. What it means for me to be 70 years old. I didn’t hurt my hip by falling or anything like that. I woke up one morning and there it was. It is a reminder to me to cherish the joys of each day. Who knows what tomorrow will bring? I can be prone to anxiety, and feel deeply the troubles of the world. I will keep bearing witness. But I will also find joy in these simple moments, these earth awakenings.

Walking in Storms

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Early morning at Capisic Brook Jan 8

A little magic has emerged in my life. For a long time, I didn’t have the energy to go on walks, except for a minimal 5-minute walk to the end of our street. But somehow my energy has lifted a little, and for the last several days I have been able to walk to Capisic Brook, where it goes under the walkway to the elementary school, about 15 minutes total. It started January 2nd when, as I entered my driveway, I felt the presence of the Marie Madeleines, my ancestors from Îlets-Jérémie. “We are still with you.” They would have spent so much time walking in their lives. So I felt them walking with me in the early morning, greeting the dawn.

I heard the message from these ancestors: “You need new boots. Walking will be needed.” It was true that my boots were quite old and my feet were feeling it. So when I got back home, I did some online research, and then called a local store. After arranging it, I went in with a mask on, tried them on and bought myself some new boots. (The ones I wanted were on sale!) When I am lucky enough to hear a clear directive, I find it is so beneficial to follow it. And so I have kept walking almost every morning before breakfast. Even in the snowstorm, even in the first rainstorm. Yesterday I couldn’t get myself out there, but today the sun helped.

All these storms have been a challenge. We expect snow in winter in Maine. I like snow. But we’ve only had one snowstorm. There have been at least three huge rain and wind storms–first, when the spruce tree fell into the orchard, another January 9th into the 10th, and then yesterday which mostly caused damage at the shore during high tide. I took this photo of the brook at flood level on the 10th–because the branches of Capisic Brook flow through deep ravines, it doesn’t come onto roads in our neighborhood.

After the rainstorm, January 10

I can’t help but wonder what these weather changes mean for the future. Will rain and wind be the new winter, alternating with snow and cold? Someone posted (on Facebook-but no attribution) this little diagram that showed how climate warming destabilizes the polar vortex causing the extreme colds and unusual warms we are seeing right now. My sister in Montana reported -34 degrees, and Texas at 40 degrees, while we were up to 50 degrees.

While often I am most inclined to grieve or be afraid of all of this, I am also hearing the message that we must find a way to keep loving our changing earth mother, keep loving through the ups and downs. Perhaps it is also about the magic of walking–keep walking through the storms. I don’t know the answers but I am so grateful for the moments of connection and care.