A few months ago I started walking with a friend, trying hard to carve out some time to get back in shape. It’s not a daily habit yet, but I’m working on it! I realized last weekend that I depended on my friend to walk…probably related to the fact that I love talking with her when we do… and decided that I was perfectly capable to go alone too. I drove over to a popular walking path around a little lake (a large duck pond really), and took off at a brisk clip. With no one to talk to, I let my mind wander as I breathed in the late afternoon autumn air that was almost summer-like in its balminess. I suddenly found myself hearing ‘snippets’ of conversation as people walked past. Sometimes it was just a few words, or a sentence (depending how loud someone was speaking), but the words got me thinking about the stories behind them. And the lives tied to those stories. It was fascinating.
As one man and woman approached me, I heard the younger man say to her, “So your goal in six months is to be walking straighter.” As I glanced at them, I thought that he might be her rehab coach, and noticed that she was walking a bit tilted, limping slightly. As I continued by, I couldn’t help but be struck by the fact that I could walk, and walk perfectly, everyday if I wanted to, but often had excuses not to. But this woman wanted to walk every day, had to walk every day, so that one day, six months from now, she’d be able to walk perfectly straight. Such a simple thing, walking, that I took for granted.
Looking ahead, I had to smile as an elderly lady drew closer. Several people were zipping by her since she was pretty slow, but what made me almost chuckle was that she figured she was moving pretty fast with her cross-country ski poles. I’m sure they helped her with balance, and as we passed each other, her lively, cheerful “hello!” simply broadened my grin. Her enthusiasm and energy were contagious.
I picked up my pace, and passed by an older lady and man. They seemed like longtime, dear friends, though the man’s shoulders slumped as he walked slowly along. But the lady seemed so bright and optimistic as I heard her say to him, “Well, I believe that there are some things you should just put in the Lord’s hands.” And he replied in a gentle drawl, “I was thinking that too.” I wondered what burdens he needed the Lord to carry for him, and got a little misty-eyed and thankful that he had a friend to remind him to just let go. So many of my worries seemed miniscule, as I glanced at the man who looked like he was bearing the weight of the world on those weary shoulders.
I rounded the curve and watched an old man and his old dog approach. The old gentleman was dressed for a promenade, with his small fedora and checked jacket, looking dapper. He and his dog were both gray around the muzzle, his with a trim moustache. As they drew near, his weathered face lit up with a smile I can only describe as beatific, then he actually tipped his hat as he said “hello”. They seemed like such comfortable companions, this old man and old dog. I hoped he’d have his dog for a while yet, to keep the loneliness at bay, and to bring him outside to enjoy many more lovely afternoons.
There were a few more snippets that I scribbled down when I got back to my car, but I’ll save those for another reflection. I was glad that I had this time to myself, to hear and wonder about other lives, and stop focusing on my own for a while. And to be ever thankful for the abundant blessings in my life…big ones like my healthy family, and small ones like this day. It brought to mind a recent favorite Sherlock Holmes quote, “You see, but you do not observe.” I thought that this was one of the first times I had observed, and was richly rewarded by a day of surprising insight.
Do you observe and listen, and wonder about others’ stories?