I took myself out to Steinke Basin for a walk yesterday afternoon because I felt crabby and out of sorts.
Some discomfort had gotten stirred up in a class I had participated in the prior evening when I recognized I was once again in a place of not knowing. Leaving behind the familiar when you can’t yet see what lies ahead can be unsettling.
When I got to the fork I took the path less traveled, a trail I’ve only been on a couple of other times – a meandering loop through hardwood forest. Most of the leaves had already fallen off the trees, allowing glimpses of what would normally be hidden by foliage. Several of these openings revealed marshy areas that were currently dry. It roused my curiosity about what the landscape might look like in times of ample rainfall.
Going up and down the hills challenged my stamina, but it felt good to get out and stretch my legs. It was a windy day, so I received the blessing of an air bath helping to blow away the heavy energy I had been holding.
On the trail I was reminded that I am stronger than I give myself credit for. But being in the space of not knowing isn’t about strength – it’s about softening and allowing the unknown to guide me. Sitting in that place which is alternately chaotic and still, my heart opens and I hear the quiet whisper of my soul which is so easily drowned out by the louder voice of my programming.
Nature once again worked its magic, and I surrendered any expectations around timing and accepted that I’m here in this place of not knowing until I’m not.
In the words of Robert Frost, the path I chose made all the difference.
This work is real, and it matters.
November 6, 2021