Walks with Barry - Profoundly Simple: A Walk Reframed

Throughout these months and miles I have wandered upon many interesting things placed at the curb as their owners let them go and moved on to new things, or perhaps just to less things. Today marked a first as I unexpectedly found myself looking into a mirror. At this point in my life, I strive to spend as little time as possible looking into mirrors. I’m always surprised by the gray-haired man looking back at me. My reflection often does not match how I feel. My reflection often does not match the image of myself I hold fast in my memory. Yet, it cannot be denied. My reflection is true. That is really me. Reflection is good for us. It helps us to stay in touch with who we really are, both inside and out. The older I get, the more I understand how reflection plays a role in helping us be true to who we really are, and, when necessary, to change so that we might become who we most long to be. Kierkegaard wrote, “Life can only be understood backwards; but it must be lived forwards.” Refl...

In the early morning light, the birds accompany the sunrise each day on my walk. Song birds sing, crows caw and hawks soar high above in the sky. Floating on the breath of warm morning air, this one seems to peacefully take in the whole of creation. I wonder if it sees me as I see it; distant and a bit mysterious. I wonder if it sees me at all. The scriptures of my religion have many references to birds. A bird signaled that the waters had receded after the great flood. Birds brought food to an isolated, weary prophet. Birds are a symbol of the hope that tired and struggling faithful ones can “mount up with wings”. We are told that birds, though small and seemingly unimportant, live their lives in the care of the Creator who knows when each one’s life ends and they fall to the earth. Birds are everywhere in the grand story of the Bible. One of my favorite old gospel hymns is “His Eye is on the Sparrow”. The comforting phrase that is repeated throughout the song is this: “His eye is on...

I am always thrilled when I come across a sidewalk or driveway that has served as the canvas for a little neighbor. Sadly, it seems a long, long time since I have seen any sign of chalk around the neighborhood, so this uncomplicated offering caught my eye. Two simple hearts. One simple message: “6 ft”. As in 6 ft apart. These little ones have gotten the message of the hour. These hearts are actually 6 ft apart! 6 has become the most important number in these long days of the pandemic. For people of all ages it will forever forward be the the number of social distancing. The number that represents safe. The number that represents health. The number that represents respect for others. The number that has changed how we look at crowds and groups and lines at the grocery store. 6 has indeed become the most important number. I like that my neighbors placed the number in a heart. A heart is the happiest of shapes and a shape that always makes me smile. The heart shape is a universal sign. D...

This spillway leads the creek under the bridge that borders our neighborhood park. After a big rain it is a lovely waterfall. On ordinary days, it is a concrete beach for the little lake formed by the creek. When I pass it on a walk, I’m always curious to see what creatures I might find atop the spillway. On this day I asked myself the question, “Which of these is not like the others?” There were ducks everywhere this morning, all along the waters edge. It was striking that all the ducks looked alike - same color, same sizes - except for two. Those two looked as if they showed up at the party and didn’t know the dress code. Those two seemed oblivious to the fact they didn’t quite fit into the crowd. These two were literally the odd ducks. Sometimes we can feel like the odd duck, can’t we? When I was a boy, I knew that feeling. Growing up, I was a late bloomer. I was small and skinny. I was not particularly athletic. I had interesting tastes and not a few eccentric behaviors. My parents...

As I walk around my neighborhood, enjoying the wonderful trees each day, it is interesting the many ways the roots appear. For some trees the roots are unseen, buried deep beneath the soil and thick, lush lawns. The roots of others have here and there lifted sections of the sidewalk. This tree has the most eye-catching roots of them all. It appears that the homeowner has tried over the years to cover the roots, only to have the soil eventually wash away. At some point the solution seemed to be building a flower bed around the base of the trunk. The border stones alone remain, sitting like a crown upon the indomitable root system of the tree. They are still doing their job, regardless of appearances, and the tree flourishes. As I pause here, I am mindful of my own roots. I am mindful of the people and the stories and the experiences that have gone into making me, well, me. I recall my grandfather who became a preacher and whose story continues in me. I am mindful of the faith that susta...

One of the most random of all the random things I have stumbled upon on my walks is this calendar. It was on the sidewalk in front of the elementary school, open and ready to be filled with appointments, special days and happy notes. I wonder how in the world a calendar, and nothing else, could end up in this exact spot. I wonder how long it will remain. It seems odd that I might pass this calendar day after day, perhaps for weeks, my life rolling by while this calendar never changes. It will seem odd, like a plot line from an old episode of The Twilight Zone, where time stops for all except for one solitary soul wandering through the world. Events and circumstances can sometimes come together in ways which make us feel like time has stopped. This pandemic has stopped time in many ways. Trips were canceled. Celebrations, years in the making, pass by in silence. School life has been altered in ways still becoming clear. So many things by which we mark time, by which we measure our days...

As the months of my walking continue to add up, I have begun to notice that I look forward to certain sights along the way. I have come to know these blocks like the back of my hand. Specific trees. Certain flower beds. The house that will have two little scooters parked in front. I count on these, day in, day out, to mark my journey. They have come to be surprisingly important to me. They mark my path. These beauties are a favorite. I have a friend who describes certain flowers as “happy”. These certainly fit the bill. It does not matter how tired I am, how hot it is or how my life is going, these blooms make me smile. They even seem to smile back at me. When I see these flowers, I know that I have but a few blocks remaining in my walk for the day. These flowers send me into whatever the rest of my day holds. Such touchstones are a blessing in life. Such touchstones come in all forms. That special book one returns to again and again because, like a true friend, it has seen us through ...

I have shared before how much I love the fact that my neighborhood is home to two Little Free Libraries. They make me smile as I pass them each day. I picture excited children picking out a new read and older neighbors sharing their interests and hobbies through the sharing of their books. This morning I was intrigued to find that this particular library was down to its last book. To make it even more interesting, the last book was the story of the Monty Python comedy troupe. Sometimes life just gives a little gift. I am curious to see how quickly this library is restocked by its neighbors. It always is, so my confidence is high. The number of books ebb and flow, somehow always finding sustainability. Books are returned. New books are added. Some books find new homes. But somehow, someway, it all evens out over time. As I look back across the years of my life, it seems my story ebbs and flows much as does the Little Free Library. I recall times when life was easy and friends seemed apl...

One of the joys of walking each day is passing my neighbors. I may not know their names, but I feel I know many of them from our shared walks. I have names for them in my head, based on the dogs they walk or at what place on my route I usually pass them each day. I am amazed at how many people seem to be creatures of habit, like myself, walking the same course at the same time every day. I must admit that I do wonder, from time to time, what name they have given me as they pass me every day. On occasion, I see people who are new to me. On this morning I came upon the scene of a woman leaving a house for her walk. Suddenly, two small boys rushed out, barefoot and dressed in pajamas, urging her to wait. She stopped and turned, and with beatific smile embraced both boys and shared a few joyful moments with each. It was a touching and heartwarming sight. I imagined that the woman is grandmother to the boys. She is here visiting and these boys awoke as she walked out the door. They did not ...

As summer blazes on through July, my daily walks have witnessed the coming and going of various plants and flowers. Some early spring colors fell victim to the heat weeks ago. Trees have bloomed and dropped their flowers. Peaches have ripened and passed. The flowers that filled this space between a fence line and the sidewalk were mowed down with the grass one day a couple of weeks ago. I noticed their absence. Then, suddenly, they were returning. From the scorched brown remains, new green shoots are springing up and broad leaves are beginning to unfurl. At this rate, in another week or so this bed will look as it did before the mower paid a visit. If the 100 degree days could not stop this rebirth, my money is on the flowers. All of creation, including the human creature, has a way of enduring. The Apostle Paul writes in 2 Corinthians these words that described his experience: “We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; Persecuted, but no...

I love to pass this tree everyday on my walk. It is such a unique and beautiful sight. When the sun is at the precise angle it stands out so starkly that it seems so much more than a tree. I have seen many, many trees with split trunks, but most of the others grew as one trunk for a while, then they split. This tree got right to it from the ground level. It bursts out of the lawn and reaches for the sky with arms out stretched. From day to day the tree reminds me of various things. At times it seems to be lifting arms toward the heavens in praise. At other times it feels as though it is anchoring the heavens to the earth. At still other times, it seems to spread its branches over the home like a shield of protection against whatever bad things might come against it. This tree seems to have a strong presence all its own. Sometimes we have people in our life who are, in the best sense, like this tree. They are a constant presence that can be counted on, day in and day out. When we need e...

As I walked along one day, I discovered a lonely, discarded hula hoop placed at the curb. Poor hula hoop! I have no doubt it was once beloved and well played with and kept close. Now it is retired. I began to think about the favorite toys of my childhood. I remember my own hula hoop. And my coonskin cap. I loved my Jackie Robinson baseball bat. I enjoyed building my model cars and playing with my chemistry set. I don’t recall when any of these disappeared from my life. They just did, except for the bat. One by one I must have lost them or broke them or, ultimately, simply outgrew them. One way or another, they all ended up at the curb of my life, much like the hula hoop I came across on my walk. Thanks to its popularity of use in weddings, one of the most well-known passages of Christian scripture is found in the book of 1 Corinthians, chapter 13. Therein we find these words: “When I was a child I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man,...

Do you see it? I admit that I did not. As I walked along the sidewalk this morning I was startled when, just as I passed this bush, this fledgling Blue Jay decided to scream. Well, maybe not scream, but to do really, really loudly whatever fledgling Blue Jays do. I jumped, then moved close to get a picture. As I paused, momma Blue Jay made herself known. And I knew enough to move it on down the sidewalk. One of the best of the many gifts to come from all these miles walked has been the experience of rediscovering how surprising life can be at any moment, on any day. A sunrise that catches you off guard. A nameless stranger who has become a part of your daily life without you realizing it until you find yourself missing them when they skip a day out on the sidewalks. The dogs you look forward to seeing as they lead their masters through the neighborhood. The tug at your heart and the lump in your throat at the sight of a young family simply walking down the street, holding hands and bei...

I was so surprised on my walk this day to find that all the yards, sidewalks and streets were covered in limbs, leaves and other types of debris, obviously blown about by a strong and mighty wind sometime during the night. How could I have missed such a weather event? I always wake up so easily at the slightest sound. I certainly never miss a storm. I was not prepared for what I found today. Sometimes we can see the storm coming up ahead. The meteorologist gives us advanced warning. The doctor lays out the road we face in treatment. The economic indicators point to hard times. Relationships deteriorate to a point that it becomes inevitable that a day of reckoning awaits. Sometimes we see storms coming. We do not welcome them. They are hard. But at least we know. We can prepare. Once a mother brought her little son to see me. He had gotten in trouble at school and the parents thought the preacher could help “straighten him out”. As the boy and I chatted in my office, I learned that in h...

This day began with the joy of walking into the sunrise. l mean the experience really was like walking INTO the sunrise. The walk began at the earliest break of day and soon the sky became vibrant and alive. This scene made me feel as if I could walk right up and touch the sun as it began for me another day. My mind was suddenly filled with daybreak memories. Early mornings in the woods as a boy, always fascinated by that mysterious moment just as the night hands off the baton to the day; that moment when all creation seems to grow perfectly still and hold its breath in anticipation of what lies ahead. Rising early as an adult to begin a long awaited journey and watching the sunrise from 35,000 feet. And countless memories in between as the darkness was pulled back to mark other days - some happy, some sad. Both high days of births and weddings, new beginnings and new love, and the low days of tough funerals and sad goodbyes, disappointments and regrets, all begin the same. The sun com...

I saw this on my first walk, many months ago. I thought I had wandered into the middle of a repair job; a wild wad of wires bundled together but connected to nothing, a makeshift waterproofing with a piece of plastic, everything tied together in a way that appeared temporary. But here we are, all these walks later, and my presumed repair job was obviously already repaired. Who would assume this is the finished product? It looks a mess, but it must be working. And I suppose that’s what matters. Over the years I have come to understand that the people who cross my path are all in various states of repair, just as I am. Some look brand new, freshly painted and shiny clean. Some look like this picture, still at loose ends and somehow holding it together. Still others are somewhere in between; a little banged up and bruised, but going about their business as usual, day after day. This life can be tough, and as our birthdays roll past, we will all have our share of problems and needed repair...

Today I had to smile as I came across this scene on my walk. My little neighbors had decided to be generous and share from their bounty. They had strategically placed this large paper bag of toys on the corner, surrounded by other toys of various kinds and various sizes. The sign says it all: “Anybody can take anything out of this bag.” I like that so much better than the more common “Free Toys” or a simple “Free.” These little ones were very clear about the invitation. They were specific about the offer. “Anybody can take anything out of this bag.” No limits here. The generosity of this family includes all the “anybodys” who might pass by. Kids they know. Kids they have never met. Neighbors they see on a regular basis. Total strangers. Just “anybody” can come and receive what they need. What a powerful invitation to offer the world. On a grand scale, The Statue of Liberty holds up the words of Emma Lazarus, “Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, ...

I was caught in a sudden storm as I walked this day. One minute, the sky was beautiful; a striking sunrise contrasted by dark summer clouds. All the regulars were out and about, each of us doing whatever it is that we do every morning: running, walking dogs, strolling the streets. Then,suddenly, the rains came. In an instant people scattered and hurried away. I was far from home and quickly was drenched from head to toe. I worried about my phone getting too wet. I was concerned about my AirPods. And I was really thinking about the thunder and lightning. As I walked toward the park and, hopefully, to an empty pavilion, I paused under a tree and was amazed at how quickly the streets had filled with water rushing to the gutters. There was something beautiful about this impromptu river as the pouring rain danced upon the flowing surface. The sounds of the storm were a soundtrack playing softly in the background. It was strange to be so happy to find myself drenched and far from home, but h...

This tree catches my eye as I pass through the park each day. It is so tall and yet so NOT straight. It doesn’t appear to be damaged or broken. But clearly somewhere along the way, long ago, some force knocked it off the straight and narrow intended path. But this tree didn’t let the situation stop its growth. It just took a slight detour and kept right on with life. Now it is somewhat striking. Of all the trees around it, this is the one tree you notice, all because it is different. This, the tree that followed a unique path. As I reflect on the people whom I hold closest to my heart, to those most dear to me, I realize that many of them are special because, they too, are different and followed their own unique paths in life. They stand out in their own way for their own reasons. Some had tough situations early in their lives, but they, like the tree, found a way to keep going and growing. And they thrived. Elisabeth Kubler-Ross writes, “Should you shield the canyons from the windstor...

The creek that winds its way through the park in my neighborhood is a beautiful gift. After a heavy rain, it rushes and rages under the bridges and can appear quite formidable. At other times it is a peaceful, placid stream where children wade and where young fishers fish. At various places there are even ducks and geese. It is, indeed, a gift. We are drawn to water. Swimming pools. Beaches. Waterfalls. Lakes. Rivers. Water seems to calm and soothe us. Water seems to speak peace to our souls. Is there anything more joyful than giggling, squealing children playing in water? Is there anything more serene to harried, stressed-out adults than stopping and simply staring at water? Water seems good for the soul. Many religions employ water in their most powerful sacraments and symbols. In the symbolism of my own religion, we speak of “living waters” and “cleansing waters” and a “crystal sea” in the dwelling place of God. It is a high and sacred moment when the waters of baptism touch the lif...

I enjoy this little horse as it greets me on every walk. I don’t believe it is my imagination; I’m certain that it moves around the yard from time to time, probably when the grass is mowed. Without exception, seeing the little horse makes me smile. But on this day before the national holiday it greets me with a little flag. The celebration has begun! How could my mind not be filled with wonderful childhood memories of Independence Days past? Fireworks and hot dogs. Watermelons frigid from being submerged in wash tubs of ice overnight and sodas of every color in the rainbow. My father home from work, no matter on what day of the week the holiday fell. Scorching heat and wonderful shade offered by the magnificent trees that filled the world of my childhood. On this day I recount with joy these priceless treasures we call memories. I am grateful for my father who served in WW II and all others across the years of our history who have answered the call to that high and hard duty. I am than...

This image is the first image I encounter each morning as I walk out of my garage because it is found in the neighboring yard. Over the years since moving to the neighborhood I watched the demise of the tree that once stood proud and tall on this spot. It was not a sudden thing at all. Somewhere along the way this tree just began to fall apart. With each high wind, a branch would fall. As each storm blew through, large limbs came down. Each time the debris was removed and the tree was trimmed, but still the process continued. Each year the losses became greater until large sections of the mighty tree would come crashing down, often with no storm prompting the event. Finally, the homeowner had to give up the fight, and the tree. The view on our block has never been the same, but in my mind’s eye I can still see that mighty tree. Each day it is a reminder that we, too, will leave a mark behind us when our time is finished. I wonder what mine will be? I have such marks and reminders in my...