Walking

For years, I walked alone and found it a positive experience.  It was as much a walking meditation as exercise, but two years ago, I began walking with what I’ll call an acquaintance.  We knew each other and enjoyed each other, but we really didn’t know each other. That quickly changed as we began walking together almost every day.  Both of us had just had a painful, life-changing experience.  My spouse of 63 years died.  Her home burned to the ground on a Sunday morning, leaving them homeless and feeling friendless.

Both of us were heartbroken, shattered, and incapable of envisioning a positive future.  But, bit by bit, we learned to use our walks as times to vent our pain and reach for hope.  Out of our shared grief and pain, we forged a strong friendship.  Today, I can’t imagine a future without my morning walks with her. By now, she’s living in their new home.  I have learned to live without my partner.  I still miss him,  but he is still with me, remaining present in shared memories with friends and family.  I’ve developed a closer relationship with my children, and just as she’s gained a whole new set of friends and appreciation for our little church, so have I.

Ours was not a perfect marriage.  In fact, there were several times when I came close to walking away.   Many times in life, we discover that difficulty is what binds us together.  I am sure his disability was one of the major reasons I stayed,  a choice I will never regret.  In spite of the tough times, ours was a good match, and we had much to learn from and give each other.

The same can be said of all our relationships.  None of us is perfect.  We are flawed and broken, thoughtless, and even cruel at times, but if we can hang in there, accepting each other for who we are and what we offer, rather than judging them and our own weaknesses or demanding perfection, we will be much blessed.

I often list my walking partner in my gratitude journal.  She will never know how much she has enriched my life, how she helped me through my months of grieving,  and the many lessons in acceptance she has taught me.  Our backgrounds are so different, and I marvel at how much we enjoy being together.  Morning grumbles seem to evaporate when we walk, and laughter takes over.  We discuss everything from theology to movies.  I’m the theologian, and she’s the movie critic, but no matter how serious or silly we get, laughter is always part of being together.  And how laughter with another heals the soul!

I suspect that the older we get, the harder it is to make walking an important part of our day. Consequently,  I encourage you to invite an acquaintance or even a relative stranger to join you, even someone who is of a different political party, background, religion, or ethnicity.  Leave your judgmentalism behind when you walk and watch the miracle happen.  Granted, the going may be rough at times, but by praying the prayer our pastor advocates, “Bless them. Change me,” wonderful things begin to happen.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can (usually me), and the wisdom to know the difference.