Sometimes walking is an exercise in magic.
I always expect to be surprised when I take a walk, but usually the surprise is seeing a cat perched in a windowsill or someone painting their front door a bright yellow. At the beginning of spring I delighted in all the sidewalk chalk art, and now I notice the gardens, dressed up in new and brightly-colored clothes.
I always check the Little Free Libraries I pass and am thrilled when I find a book I want to read, like I did recently when I found two Anne Tyler novels I have not yet read.
One day this week, I saw something I had not seen before.
An arch across the sidewalk. Not a garden arbor like the entrance to my Paris garden, but a big pinkish red blown-up rubber arch, like a half of a gigantic inner tube. A massive beach toy with a unicorn's horn on the top.
I suppose this was a decoration for a birthday or graduation party, but maybe somebody decided all passersby needed a smile.
Or, I wondered, was this a gateway to a magic kingdom?
If I stood underneath the red glow would fairy dust sprinkle on me? Should I stand there and make a wish or two or three? Would life be different, better once I walked underneath that curve and emerged on the other side? Was this a threshold to dreams of all encompassing love and justice? Was I pilgrim at an unknown portal?
I had to bow my head in order to pass through, a humbling and reverent pose, and in just one step I was on the other side. No, the sun didn't seem any brighter nor was the sidewalk paved in gold, but somehow I felt lighter, as I continued my walk.
Normally, I take a different return route, but that morning I retraced my steps, like returning from the center of a labyrinth. As I approached the arch once again, I took a deep breath and gave thanks for the magic of unexpected passageways.
The magic comes in the steps we take once we come to the other side.
Once home I went up to my garret office and sat in my Girlfriend Chair for morning devotions. I opened to the "Morning Prayer" in a book of prayers by Padraig O Tuoma.
We begin our day alone,
honoring this life, with all its potentials and possibilities
We begin our day with trust,
knowing we are created for loving encounter...
We make room for the unexpected,
May we find wisdom and life
in the unexpected...
We resolve to live life in its fullness:...
We will greet God in ordinary and hidden moments.
We will live the life we are living.
May we greet the magic of each day.
An Invitation
Where do you find magic? I would love to know.
NOTE: The "Morning Prayer" is found in Daily Prayer with the Corrymeela Community by Padraig O Tuama. http://www.padraigotuama.com
Taking a first thing in the morning walk always feels like a gift, even on muggy days. I know I will delight in neighborhood gardens or a house I've not noticed before, and doesn't it look charming? An idea for something I am writing may pop into my head or the answer to a question I have been pondering.
Sometimes I am more aware of God walking with me --or am I walking with God?
And sometimes I receive a most unexpected gift.
I decided to walk over to the campus of St Catherine University, only blocks away. In fact, our very first house was right across the street from St Kate's, and I was once even a visiting lecturer, the lowest position on the faculty totem pole, in the education department for a few years. Wow--that was a very long time ago!
I don't walk there very often. Not only are we located within easy walking distance of St Kate's, but also St Thomas and Macalester, and they each have lovely campuses. I rarely walk there, however. Why don't I go to one of their libraries or student centers for an afternoon of writing? St Kate's has a lovely pond at the edge of the campus and there are benches where I could sit and read. Why don't I do that?
I go to a writing class and other Wisdom Ways events on the St Kate's Campus and an occasional concert or lecture at their O'Shaughnessy Auditorium and sometimes attend an event at the other schools, but by and large I take their presence for granted.
I wonder why that it is.
Being a student has always felt like a holy task to me and a campus is sacred ground. And, I felt that as I walked along the sidewalks of St Kate's the other morning. I felt a sense of awe for the learning that is offered and received there, along with the openings to new ideas, new relationships, new roles in the world.
I am no longer an official student, but I hope I learn something every day. I hope I can open to what is offered every day, as well as ways I can give of myself. Walking the campus on a quiet summer morning was a reminder of those holy tasks.
And then I received a surprising gift.
I walked towards the student center and decided to go down a staircase, assuming it would lead me towards the open lawn area and the pond. It did, but at the foot of the stairs, tucked away serenely, privately was a sculpture by Paul Granlund
Paul Granlund is a famous Minnesota sculptor, and a year or so ago I went on a tour with his son to see many of his sculptures throughout Minneapolis and St Paul, some on the campus of St Thomas. We didn't visit this one, however, and I had no idea it was there.
Many of his sculptures are spiritual in nature, as this one, which is called "Zerogee," as in a gravity free condition, certainly is. I felt joy and exuberance and strength and life. Oh, such life! I felt renewal and hope and energy. All tucked away in this quiet spot.
Finding this sculpture felt like an invitation to walk this sacred ground more often and to view my days as filled with holy tasks. Every Sunday in church I hear the words, "The gifts of God for the people of God." That morning I received a gift from God.
An Invitation
What gifts have you received lately? I would love to know.
Sometimes walking is an exercise in magic.
