I won't have as many of these as I would probably hope or think that I will have. A day alone.
With no appointments in my schedule book; no sermon to write and nobody who needed my time or attention, I packed a day pack and headed to Middlesex Fells. Usually I park by Bellevue pond, and hike up the Quarry road trail, perhaps go up to the tower or make my way over to the "panther cave", but I decided to park a little ways up the road and go up the Middle road, which is much less of a "hike" more of a meander through the woods. I only went as far as the rocks by the "panther cave" ( I doubt a panther ever lived in these rocks but that is what it is called). The rocks overlooking the trails there were calling my name, so I settled in.
I spread out my towel and set up my things so I could reach them easily. The thing that struck me the most was how long it took me to settle. I journaled briefly. I tried to read one book and then another. Wrote a poem or two. Tried to read again. Moved my towel to a more comfortable place on the rock, tried sitting this way and then that.
I eventually settled down, but I bet it was 1/2 of an hour before I was calm in mind and body. I watched the clouds, watched an ant, and a caterpillar (he looked like a gypy moth like the ones when I was a child, but the trees were not infested with their webs so he must have just been similar) who was near by. It was not a warm day, the high today was in the low 70s, the sun was warm but the shade was cool. I would wrap the towel around my legs when the sun went behind the clouds.
I listened. It was quiet. But you know things are never quiet. There were very few bird songs. Just the wind in the leaves which was constant and quite strong. I could hear highway, which is just on the other side of the Fells. I appeared to be surrounded by wilderness but I was not a ten minute jaunt from a neighborhood and about that to the highway. Even when I get away, I am not really THAT far away. Nor was I really alone. A couple passed by down below their voices rising up to me, but their words lost in the swirl. A man on his mountain bike out enjoying the cool June day. But generally I was as alone as I could be, just me and the rock, and the sky and the wind in the leaves.
Although I had every intention of reading the pastoral books I brought with me, I eventually settled in with some fiction. As soon as I was really comfortable, really quiet, really still, it was time to go. Never enough time. It was harder to rest, to be still to be calm to enjoy just being where I was than I thought it would be. When I am trying, to stay, I want to move. When I am moving I long to stay. I will try again. I perhaps I will hike further, perhaps I will go there again. But this is my first Monday. We will see what other Mondays bring.
Here is what I wrote in my journal:
Come, Lord Jesus, come.
Let me know you a new today
Find me in my rest and my quiet
I wait, anticipate
What will you bring?
I wait...
And my poem:
The eagle, he flaps his wings
to protect,
to ward off all evil things.
Loud is his voice.
Sharp are his claws.
None shall stand in his way.
The eagle guard her next,
Her children beneath her wings.
She brings sustenance, nourishment
and guides them through their day.
The chicks are weak and small,
Blind to so many things,
Never alone;
Protected and fed
They peer out of the nest
move to its edge, look out and long to be free.
Stay and rest, and be fed
do not go where you are not led
Look today, but stay today
Stay where you are and wait.
You will be free.
With no appointments in my schedule book; no sermon to write and nobody who needed my time or attention, I packed a day pack and headed to Middlesex Fells. Usually I park by Bellevue pond, and hike up the Quarry road trail, perhaps go up to the tower or make my way over to the "panther cave", but I decided to park a little ways up the road and go up the Middle road, which is much less of a "hike" more of a meander through the woods. I only went as far as the rocks by the "panther cave" ( I doubt a panther ever lived in these rocks but that is what it is called). The rocks overlooking the trails there were calling my name, so I settled in.
I spread out my towel and set up my things so I could reach them easily. The thing that struck me the most was how long it took me to settle. I journaled briefly. I tried to read one book and then another. Wrote a poem or two. Tried to read again. Moved my towel to a more comfortable place on the rock, tried sitting this way and then that.
I eventually settled down, but I bet it was 1/2 of an hour before I was calm in mind and body. I watched the clouds, watched an ant, and a caterpillar (he looked like a gypy moth like the ones when I was a child, but the trees were not infested with their webs so he must have just been similar) who was near by. It was not a warm day, the high today was in the low 70s, the sun was warm but the shade was cool. I would wrap the towel around my legs when the sun went behind the clouds.
I listened. It was quiet. But you know things are never quiet. There were very few bird songs. Just the wind in the leaves which was constant and quite strong. I could hear highway, which is just on the other side of the Fells. I appeared to be surrounded by wilderness but I was not a ten minute jaunt from a neighborhood and about that to the highway. Even when I get away, I am not really THAT far away. Nor was I really alone. A couple passed by down below their voices rising up to me, but their words lost in the swirl. A man on his mountain bike out enjoying the cool June day. But generally I was as alone as I could be, just me and the rock, and the sky and the wind in the leaves.
Although I had every intention of reading the pastoral books I brought with me, I eventually settled in with some fiction. As soon as I was really comfortable, really quiet, really still, it was time to go. Never enough time. It was harder to rest, to be still to be calm to enjoy just being where I was than I thought it would be. When I am trying, to stay, I want to move. When I am moving I long to stay. I will try again. I perhaps I will hike further, perhaps I will go there again. But this is my first Monday. We will see what other Mondays bring.
Here is what I wrote in my journal:
Come, Lord Jesus, come.
Let me know you a new today
Find me in my rest and my quiet
I wait, anticipate
What will you bring?
I wait...
And my poem:
The eagle, he flaps his wings
to protect,
to ward off all evil things.
Loud is his voice.
Sharp are his claws.
None shall stand in his way.
The eagle guard her next,
Her children beneath her wings.
She brings sustenance, nourishment
and guides them through their day.
The chicks are weak and small,
Blind to so many things,
Never alone;
Protected and fed
They peer out of the nest
move to its edge, look out and long to be free.
Stay and rest, and be fed
do not go where you are not led
Look today, but stay today
Stay where you are and wait.
You will be free.
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