I spent the better part of today walking, trying to clear my racing mind and settle into the silence where the healing lies. Into the woods to walk the trails I went listening to nothing but the sound of slightly damp, dead leaves crunching under foot. Each step a possible slip on the bed of leaves masquerading as solid ground. Flickers of sunlight danced through moss covered tree branches teasing me with the fleeting chance for clarity. I breathed in the scent of fall rather than the dead of winter and walked until I found myself right back at the beginning of the trail, no less lost than I had been when I started. “To the beach then,” I told myself . I wandered the shoreline while the rising tide lapped up over my sneakers pushing me up into the soft sand, forcing me to face the uncertain path I am walking. There wasn’t much I could do other than carefully place one foot in front of the other into the sinking sand, acutely aware of the constant shifting sands below me. “Why is it so hard to get a solid footing today,” I yelled out . Seagulls and ducks squawked and cried seemingly at my clumsy attempts to make my way down the beach. At last I reached the jetty and could climb onto the solid rocks leading into the sea. Some wet spots, and a jump from one to another now and then, but for the most part solid ground. My body relaxed some and I stood and breathed in the cold, salty air while the waves rolled by me and onto the shore behind me. Watching it I actually felt unsteady as if I were on a ship rocking back and forth, which after my one and only cruise experience is not a comforting feeling. I turned then and made my way back down onto the sand and took comfort on a log that seemed to have just been waiting for me to show up and sit awhile. So, I sat. And I sat. Until I understood. It took hours of this day, but finally I understood. Solid ground can be shaky and slippery sometimes threatening your footing. Sinking sand can make you work to keep your balance, and in the dark woods flickers of light may be all there is to light your path. I don’t like when the sand shifts under my feet, or the light isn’t clearly leading the way. It scares me, this daring me to continue on in spite of the uncertainty. That’s the trick though isn’t it? To keep moving on your path even when the ground shakes, the sand shifts and the light is dim, even with my fear. I sat some more on that log that held me in my lostness, until I was ready to stand and start again-one foot in front of the other. On my path. Wherever it may lead…
