A Walking Stick

"Take this stroll through life; take a pencil as a walking stick."

-Jeff Olson, The Slight Edge 

We walk the dog, most days. We walk and talk, the son and I, about his Civil Air Patrol experiences, about the latest book he is reading, about news clips and how it will affect us, or not. Or, we just walk and gaze at the mountains, the space around us, the sky - if there is the sound of a plane or jet or helicopter, he looks until he spots it in the wide expanse of sky. The dog, she loves to get out, especially in the two open fields where we can let her off leash and she bounds around us. Blind, she bounds ahead and then back to make sure she knows where we are, staying on the familiar gravel of the path, feeling her way along, sensing somehow when it is time to turn back toward the road home, time to clip on her leash.

For me, the walk is a good time to clear my head. Release the tensions. To not think about what needs to be done back at home; instead, to absorb the space and the sky and soar with the birds.

Our daughter sent me this quote from The Slight Edge, a book we have both read, about motivation and working toward our goals, little steps at a time. She commented, "You don't have to draw life, you can write it out. Cameras can't catch how you feel when you see something picture worthy."

 The art of keeping a journal starts with the art of capturing our feelings, our responses to the life happening around us. Sometimes, I need to set aside the pen, the camera, the computer and pay attention to what is going on in the people, the sky, the animals, the plants around me. Pay attention to how I feel.

 Pick up that pencil walking stick: walk, talk, breathe, look and see, really see what is around you. Then, there will be words to express the feelings, the scenes, the events of daily life.


 

Tangled Webs

Don't you dislike it in the morning when you walk outside and are snagged in some spider's intricately woven web? To you, it's an uncomfortable, sticky nuisance. To them, you have just destroyed their carefully constructed means of survival. It probably took them all night.

"Oh what a tangled web we weave,
when first we practice to deceive."
--Sir Walter Scott

It amazes me as I watch in movies, or read in stories, as the characters complicate their lives by  leaving out details, or by being afraid to speak up. Why doesn't she just tell him the truth?

It's easy from the outside looking in to see what the character should do or say. Kind of like hindsight.

I consider myself an honest person. Yet, I do this:
"How are you?"
"Fine." (When I am really upset)

"What's wrong?"
"Nothing." (When of course, there is)

I am trying to be more open, not so reticent. To not be tangled in silent complications.
Do you have trouble with this, too?