The time before maps

 

 

AUGUST 13: I'm deaf as a doorknob without my hearing aids - have been for over 30 years - so when I take my aids out at night and my head hits the pillow, I'm O.U.T., just like the bedside lamp.

Which is why it was so unusual for me to awaken this morning to the sound of Laughing Gulls. I usually don't hear them until after I "put my ears in." They were clearly calling me to wake up and get up and get on with it.

Of this, I have no doubt.

It was 66 degrees and the sun was out when my feet hit the floor around 6 this morning. And, the first thing I thought, after considering the way my body felt, was that I could probably get at least a mile walk in this morning and, if I took it easy, it would probably take me about 30 minutes.

So, I quick got the coffee ready, did some basic ablutions and praises, put on my old Camino pants and shirt and my new Camino walking shoes (Altra, Lone Peak 6, Trail-Running Shoe, Navy/Lt. Blue, Womans, 8 with a wide toe box) that arrived the other day from REI. I tuned up the Walk app on my iWatch, hooked myself up with my teeny-weeny-tiny iPod Nano and my headphones, and set it to listen to Delta Rae and Molly Skaggs and the Cageless Birds and off I went.

I get tested again tomorrow but my symptoms are ever so much better that I felt strong enough to take on this low-level challenge.

After having been in isolation/lockdown for over a week and now being outside without a mask, walking and enjoying the 10 mph wind coming down special from the north just to caress my face, checking out what my neighbors were doing in their yards (Really? A coy pond?

Now that we have heron AND pelicans in the 'hood?), waving to folks out walking their dogs or heading off for work was just so wonderfully, amazingly flippin' normal that it brought tears to my eyes.

I got a 1.5-mile walk in which took just under 35 minutes but the stats don't tell you what that walk did to my mind and my heart and my soul.

I'm so ready to be B.A.C.K. The good news is that while I still may test positive for a while, as long as I'm asymptomatic, the new CDC regs allow me to return to work on Monday. With a mask. Of course.

I'm about to have a Glory Attack!

I'm actually grateful for this time of isolation/lockdown. Solitary confinement (well, with your spouse) has had aspects of a time of spiritual retreat.

There is something quite mystical about listening to your inner voice over an extended period of time. You hear stuff in ways you hadn't heard before. Your perspective changes. You think old thoughts in new ways.

Maybe that's why I 'heard' the Laughing Gulls this morning, eh?

Maybe it was the Camino calling me through the gulls and I heard them through the 'ears of the heart', as St. Benedict would say.

I thought of Joyce Rupp's poem which I've posted below. "Toss away the old map," I heard. Take away my map!?! I thunder in response.

How will I know where to go? I demand. And, my wise self answers, "There was a time before maps when pilgrims traveled by the stars."

I had forgotten one of the important lessons I learned on the last Camino. I've been looking up to find the stars. I forgot that sometimes you have to reach down - way down deep - in order to touch a star.

So, Saturday is laundry day. Better get to it. "These clothes won't wash themselves," I can hear my mother saying.

First, I finish my coffee. Feel the hot liquid over my tongue and taste the smooth, silky burst of coffee flavor at the back of my mouth. Take some deep breaths and visualize the air in and out of my lungs. Feel the aches and enjoy the twitches in the muscles of my body. Smile at it all.

I'm alive. I love and I am loved in return. I can feel the warmth of the August sun. I can smell the salt in the water. God is good. I can hear the Laughing Gulls calling me to "incline the ear of your heart."

Who needs a map?

Off we go, then.