Dear Friends,
On Monday I went for a walk,or, since I read a lot of Sallinger in my formulative years and I’m writing instead of speaking this, it might be more accurate to say that on Monday I went for a walk.
It wasn’t planned. Anne is out of town, I took my kids to school and then dropped my car off for an oil change at the local service station; as I was walking home the air was like ambrosia, the weather was perfect, and I decided that I really wanted to do more than walk home. I wanted to go on a walk. It was my day off, no one was expecting me to do anything or to be anywhere, so I stepped into my house, picked up my camera and a bottle of water and I started walking.
I walked for four hours around the hills of Piedmont and through Joaquin Miller Park (a longer description of my walk can be found on Facebook), and as I was coming home, I found myself at a trailhead I had never previously considered.
On a whim, I followed the trail though redwoods and past alders, whose changing leaves reminded me that it was autumn, even if the air was warm and none of the conifers cared to notice the seasonal change.
Nor did the live Oaks notice.
Along the way I was struck by how humans engage in religious practice even when they think they are just doing meaningless like stacking rocks. I actually found these cairns to be quite moving—evidence that others before me had passed this way and (presumably) had enjoye the hike. There remain in me certain voices from the past which warn me that my celebration of secular religiosity is spiritual acomodation and therefore to be avoided,…
…but it turns out accommodation is part of life.
For example, after following my footfalls down a small path that led to the banks of Sausal Creek, I found myself in a place of astonishing beauty (I know the exposure on this photo is sort of over the top, but honestly, this is how it looked to me; it was magic).
The part of me that likes to follow rules probably would have said that this stretch of the river should be protected from human contamination at all costs, but then, I turned around and saw the Graffiti, which was beautiful…
whimsical…
…and all over the place. And it worked.
The trail, eventually, led me up and into a neighborhood that reminded me how much I love living in Oakland.
After a quick stop at a local watering hole (a favorite of mine),
I headed home on the bus.
Once home, I picked up my newly-oiled car, I went to Trader Joe’s for peanut butter, and I got the kids from school.
I hope I remember to take more walks. I hope you do as well.
God’s Peace,
Ben