I got up Monday morning (yesterday) to a very nice breakfast provided by my hosts, but even more so to some wonderful conversation about the place of God in their lives, and how they connect with that. They had done some thinking about it all before I even got there, and we truly enjoyed the exchange of ideas. They gave me 'grist for the mill' so to speak. We took a few pictures and I was taken back out to the main road to continue my journey, while they sought out some June skiing on the snow fields of Mt Washington.
The day was hot, but not totally as brutal as Sunday had been. I stopped and dunked my head in Silver Lake and enjoyed the cooling effect for quite a while.
I am enjoying moving slower. Well, overall I am. I'll be enjoying it even more when this heat wave breaks on Wednesday.
But I have always enjoyed slowing down and taking hikes or going on backpacking trips, and I've loved reconnecting with the physical world at that slower pace. But this walk is feeling very different. I'm not walking out where there are no people - I'm walking past their beautifully tended flower beds, their work places with cars lined up outside. Front porches on homes that speak of a generally slower time in the past, when walking by also meant stopping to chat with whomever was sitting there. But nobody sat on any porches. People whizzed by in their cars (me? I wasn't coveting their airconditioning! Well, maybe just a little bit - it takes some time to make such a transition.) Some waved. A couple honked. But that was the extent of the connection.
And I slowly, increasingly slowly as the heat grew and the uphills appeared, walked on.
Did you know that blue jays can't flap their wings and squawk at the same time? I laughed out loud while I watched that. Gliding, rather than flapping, whenever they wanted to let out that raucous call. And I watched a slight breeze seemingly encourage a tree to let go of it's entire load of pollen all at once. The little breeze felt so good . . . But then I looked up and saw that thick cloud of yellow just pouring from the tree.
And the people just kept whizzing by, as I stood still, waiting for the pollen cloud to dissipate before walking into it.
I realized, at one point, that I was walking right past a friend's house - the home of a retired priest and her husband. Car parked in the drive. Hmmmm . . . I was going after a cold drink of water!
I stayed inside having a nice chat with Peg and Lee, enjoying a little coolness, good conversation and cold water, when suddenly the skies let loose with a very hard rain. I hadn't even seen it coming! In this kind of heat, these storms come up so suddenly. They were planning on going out to get their mail, and I quickly accepted the offer of a ride on into Tamworth.
The rector in Tamworth had suggested The Other Store as a place to hang out for lunch time conversation. It was a good find. The friendliness there was genuine.
The first person who saw me, immediately recognized me. "You did Vern's funeral!" The woman behind the lunch counter recognized me from the article in the local paper about this walk that came out the day before I left. I was excited -- my first "casual" conversation of the walk.
I ordered a sandwich and sat at the counter and ate, and chatted with the house painter who had come in out of the rain for a while. The woman behind the counter joined in the conversation, and then continued after the painter left. I wanted to listen to people . . . So I let her lead the conversation. She wanted to talk about her daughter who is a hiker. Who goes off and hikes long (thousands of miles long) trails. She wanted to talk about her worries about her daughter, and also about her pride in her daughter.
"As Jesus was walking along . . . " began last Sunday's gospel reading. And it strikes me that Jesus, walking along, didn't bring his own agenda too often. Each person he met, he allowed to tell what they needed. To simply reach out and touch him, to beg for the life of a daughter. It always struck me as a little funny the when a blind man would cry out to Jesus "Son of David, have mercy!" Jesus would respond by asking what he wanted. It seems pretty obvious to me, but Jesus didn't come, telling them what they needed. He listened, and responded to where people were.
So I tried. I wanted to ask about church. About God. About her faith. I let her lead. Maybe she simply needed to feel like someone understood her journey with her daughter. I'm not sure. But I'm pondering this . . . This challenge to my ideas about the shape of conversations.
I finally left that lunch counter and started walking again. Heat rising from the pavement, I checked out the strange markings on my lower leg I had discovered that morning. I had never seen anything like it before, and it bothered me. It seemed to be getting a bit worse that afternoon. I was still pretty close to my doctor - - as compared with the next day when I was taking a car trip to the southern part of the state - - so I called. Talking on the phone, describing what it was . . . She wanted to see me.
Long story shortened - I called a friend for a ride, who came and took me to the clinic. Doctor couldn't tell for sure what was causing the petechiaea (not sure at all how to spell this!) and wanted to do some blood work (my legs were bleeding out under the skin near the ankles) but it was too late in the day to get this particular one done (had to be same day work) so I would have to come back the next morning (today).
So I lost my evening in Tamworth as Rick took me home. I lightened my pack . . . Iced my legs . . . Worried just a little. Got a ride arranged to get me to the clinic in the morning, and then hopefully on to Peterborough with the doctor's ok. I'm writing this from Peterborough! The doctor can't say for sure what's causing this, but thinks it's most likely from the extreme road heat this week. But she cleared me to keep going, as long as I promised to keep an eye on it and get it checked out again if it gets worse or other symptoms appear.
I'm sitting under a tree in Peterborough, looking forward to my first full evening in a town. And wondering how I listen and learn what I WANT TO HEAR while following the lead of those I meet.
Maybe I can just reshape that question a bit. What do you want? From God. From the church. From a faith community.
We'll see. More to come later.
The day was hot, but not totally as brutal as Sunday had been. I stopped and dunked my head in Silver Lake and enjoyed the cooling effect for quite a while.
I am enjoying moving slower. Well, overall I am. I'll be enjoying it even more when this heat wave breaks on Wednesday.
But I have always enjoyed slowing down and taking hikes or going on backpacking trips, and I've loved reconnecting with the physical world at that slower pace. But this walk is feeling very different. I'm not walking out where there are no people - I'm walking past their beautifully tended flower beds, their work places with cars lined up outside. Front porches on homes that speak of a generally slower time in the past, when walking by also meant stopping to chat with whomever was sitting there. But nobody sat on any porches. People whizzed by in their cars (me? I wasn't coveting their airconditioning! Well, maybe just a little bit - it takes some time to make such a transition.) Some waved. A couple honked. But that was the extent of the connection.
And I slowly, increasingly slowly as the heat grew and the uphills appeared, walked on.
Did you know that blue jays can't flap their wings and squawk at the same time? I laughed out loud while I watched that. Gliding, rather than flapping, whenever they wanted to let out that raucous call. And I watched a slight breeze seemingly encourage a tree to let go of it's entire load of pollen all at once. The little breeze felt so good . . . But then I looked up and saw that thick cloud of yellow just pouring from the tree.
And the people just kept whizzing by, as I stood still, waiting for the pollen cloud to dissipate before walking into it.
I realized, at one point, that I was walking right past a friend's house - the home of a retired priest and her husband. Car parked in the drive. Hmmmm . . . I was going after a cold drink of water!
I stayed inside having a nice chat with Peg and Lee, enjoying a little coolness, good conversation and cold water, when suddenly the skies let loose with a very hard rain. I hadn't even seen it coming! In this kind of heat, these storms come up so suddenly. They were planning on going out to get their mail, and I quickly accepted the offer of a ride on into Tamworth.
The rector in Tamworth had suggested The Other Store as a place to hang out for lunch time conversation. It was a good find. The friendliness there was genuine.
The first person who saw me, immediately recognized me. "You did Vern's funeral!" The woman behind the lunch counter recognized me from the article in the local paper about this walk that came out the day before I left. I was excited -- my first "casual" conversation of the walk.
I ordered a sandwich and sat at the counter and ate, and chatted with the house painter who had come in out of the rain for a while. The woman behind the counter joined in the conversation, and then continued after the painter left. I wanted to listen to people . . . So I let her lead the conversation. She wanted to talk about her daughter who is a hiker. Who goes off and hikes long (thousands of miles long) trails. She wanted to talk about her worries about her daughter, and also about her pride in her daughter.
"As Jesus was walking along . . . " began last Sunday's gospel reading. And it strikes me that Jesus, walking along, didn't bring his own agenda too often. Each person he met, he allowed to tell what they needed. To simply reach out and touch him, to beg for the life of a daughter. It always struck me as a little funny the when a blind man would cry out to Jesus "Son of David, have mercy!" Jesus would respond by asking what he wanted. It seems pretty obvious to me, but Jesus didn't come, telling them what they needed. He listened, and responded to where people were.
So I tried. I wanted to ask about church. About God. About her faith. I let her lead. Maybe she simply needed to feel like someone understood her journey with her daughter. I'm not sure. But I'm pondering this . . . This challenge to my ideas about the shape of conversations.
I finally left that lunch counter and started walking again. Heat rising from the pavement, I checked out the strange markings on my lower leg I had discovered that morning. I had never seen anything like it before, and it bothered me. It seemed to be getting a bit worse that afternoon. I was still pretty close to my doctor - - as compared with the next day when I was taking a car trip to the southern part of the state - - so I called. Talking on the phone, describing what it was . . . She wanted to see me.
Long story shortened - I called a friend for a ride, who came and took me to the clinic. Doctor couldn't tell for sure what was causing the petechiaea (not sure at all how to spell this!) and wanted to do some blood work (my legs were bleeding out under the skin near the ankles) but it was too late in the day to get this particular one done (had to be same day work) so I would have to come back the next morning (today).
So I lost my evening in Tamworth as Rick took me home. I lightened my pack . . . Iced my legs . . . Worried just a little. Got a ride arranged to get me to the clinic in the morning, and then hopefully on to Peterborough with the doctor's ok. I'm writing this from Peterborough! The doctor can't say for sure what's causing this, but thinks it's most likely from the extreme road heat this week. But she cleared me to keep going, as long as I promised to keep an eye on it and get it checked out again if it gets worse or other symptoms appear.
I'm sitting under a tree in Peterborough, looking forward to my first full evening in a town. And wondering how I listen and learn what I WANT TO HEAR while following the lead of those I meet.
Maybe I can just reshape that question a bit. What do you want? From God. From the church. From a faith community.
We'll see. More to come later.
Posts
2 comments:
Whew. Relieved to hear that you checked on the situation with your legs and that your pilgrimage is proceeding. So much to tell you, but most important. there is so much to hear from you.
Thank you for keeping in touch. For taking us along with you.
3 cheers.
Love,
Maggie & Rick
Heat rash from your socks? The first five days of the pilgrimage walking we would all end up with terrible rashes on our lower legs caused by the heat and friction of the socks. It itched and looked awful for two weeks but then would fade away. We simply called it 'the pilgrim's rash.'
Post a Comment