I had a nice afternoon yesterday. Mom and Dad came up to help with my garden.
A friend helped expand it the day before. The new part was horrible… about half of it was *full* of rocks. We gave up after I had had carted almost 10 buckets and filled up 4 holes in my driveway. Dad was digging and I was picking up the stones.
There were so many rocks that we had to get more soil. Fortunately, my neighbor was working on her garden and offered some that she didn’t need.
I couldn’t decide what to plant, but we planted zucchini, onions, tomatoes and flowers. I had wanted to plant peppers but the Garden Gate was closed for Memorial Day. I went up today and bought a dozen various pepper plants. I’ll put those in later today after it cools off a little.
What was sad about the event was that mom found a nest of dead baby rabbits in the old garden. We carefully got rid of them, to avoid any possible disease from the remains. There’s been a rabbit in my back yard for years. I’m not sure if the babies belonged to it.
After the garden party, I went to the Y and walked a mile.
The cliche emphasizes the need to walk the talk. That is, if you declare a path but don’t follow it, you’re just spouting hypocrisy and lies. The converse is talking the walk. This is a different principle, not leading to criticism and judgement, but rather it gives a path for growth and healing. It’s an opportunity for me to be myself, perhaps, to become a better me.
The gist is that while walking outside, I’m not so bound by the synthetic world of men. The static seat in the kitchen or an automobile’s mechanical cockpit get their light from anonymous strangers. By walking, I put my life in front of a different mirror and can see hidden strengths in the reflection.
A friend of mine does counseling with teens. He remarked that with teenage boys, instead of meeting in his office, going on a walk can be a lot more productive. The youths are able to be more direct and make more progress in that less clinical setting.
I’ve noticed a similar effect with myself. When I’m walking with someone, the distraction of my sink of dirty dishes is gone. I’m not avoiding a wreck as traffic merges onto the highway. Instead, I’m sharing an authentic experience with a friend.
Perhaps we’re walking in the park. If we come to a moment and need to contemplate alone, we can take a break and look at a remarkable oak tree and watch the birds fight on the playground. The transition is completely natural. All of that outer beauty won’t hide any inner beauty slowly forming within us together. We’re not trying to entertain each other nor put on the happy face.
When I’m talking the walk with a friend, we explore different parts of our lives. Sometimes I get answers and can solve problems. Of course, life isn’t deathly serious all the time. However, developing a pattern of shared meditation like this in good times can be golden when I don’t know what to ask.