Pictures of paths regularly attract my attention. Like this one above, taken in Golden, Colorado, on a day together with dear people.
It’s the way-finding that is part of it, this love of paths. Both the seeking for, and the arriving at, insight and clarity. It’s the letting go and the letting come. It’s what grows all around, tangled as it may be, next to what guides.
Whether for the inner or the outer, paths have a way of calling out appreciative energy for me. And beauty. And joy. An appreciation for those before, those now, and those that will come.
And, because I remain a person that loves to connect simple experience to deeper principle and practice of meaning and purpose, a simple Friday morning noticing of a path can become guide (whether in concept or in actual following of the path) for several hours, days, or weeks. There is such realness of Life calling — of this I remain student.
So it is with this path, and with these friends, experiencing an easy wandering day, to share stories, questions, wonders, and to harvest clarity, wholeheartedness, community, and openness.
What joy. What delight.
And then there is the dream I had last night. Really just the tiniest of fragments. The fragment itself, a figurative path among figurative tall grasses.
In this dream I am sitting next to a person I know. We ride in a car together. With my right hand, I reach to her left knee. It’s gentle moment of welcomed embrace. It’s sweetness. Then I wake.
And then, as it is with the Golden image of path, I welcome guide of the dream, Life calling, to write these words of wander, of wholeheartedness. To write from what is a simple yet memorable snippet of experience.
Sweetness is enough (as a choice).
Sweetness is sweetness (of course there are other things).
Joy is.
Kindness is.
So is consciousness.
So is flow.
So is aliveness in learning.
So is aliveness in love.
Each of these are enough (as choice).
I am enough (of course there are other things).
Life, I believe calls us to way-finding. Some of it in simple moments. Some of it in longer journeys. Paths abound, and perhaps beckon to guide to what is purposeful in an among us.
With gratitude for path and people.
“It’s what grows all around, tangled as it may be, next to what guides.”
I feel the wildness that is present in what grows all around. As well as the sureness of the presence of what guides. Not necessarily a straightforward beckoning. Soft edges.
I am paying attention. And enjoying the joy of finding my way.