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 ...