a walk around the lake ...

Perhaps the truth depends

on a walk around the lake.  ~Wallace Stevens

 The (United Methodist) Wesley Center, Woodworth, Louisiana

Yesterday was a day of rest between working 2 separate retreats in 2 different states.  In the afternoon, I spent 2 hours on a contemplative walk around the lake.  I usually bring my camera with me so I can savor the images, trying to capture them in a receptive stance rather than a stance of "taking." 

Before I began my beautiful walk in the silence of the early afternoon, I took a few moments to become aware of my heart beating in tandem with the heartbeat of God in nature.  Breathing fresh air into my lungs and my heart, breathing out carbon dioxide and heart toxins that accumulate as I mind-numbingly live my life at the speed of sound.  Ok, that is an exaggeration but as a metaphor it expresses how I feel inside sometimes.   

Blue Heron?

As I breathe, I allow the "slowing" to begin.  After I feel the connection, I walk.  Slowly, intentionally I take each step, wondering where the next step will take me, just the next step and no further, one step at a time.  I listen.  The birds sing as they soar, the frogs croak sign unseen and something mysterious stirs in the water just a few steps away.  I can hear the steady movement of a train in the distance.  And of course, the sound of silence whispers in my soul ...  

water lilies and their lily pads

As I walk across a small bridge, I notice a few white floating water lilies with their delicate yellow centers, very lotus-like within a maze of lily pads.  Although the water lily, like the lotus, has different meanings in different cultures, I am drawn to these beautiful little lilies as a symbol of love and life.  Isn't that a lovely thought on a lazy afternoon walk by the lake?   I'm not sure how long I simply stood and gazed at their beauty before moving on.


As I continued to walk, I began to notice the large number of vines wrapped around trees.  The variety of vines was immense, some green and wiry, some dense and rustically gray.  

And yet, the one I was most drawn to was a vine that looked like it had been "sewn" on to the tree.  It reminded me of my mom, who was an amazing seamstress.  I think she would have appreciated this.

For the most part, the vines and the trees seemed to be doing well together ... until I got to one very tired pine tree, almost completely wrapped up and taken over by the vine.  

It is not a symbiotic relationship.  In truth, most vine/tree combos are not symbiotic.  The vine takes from the tree.  And I wondered about my own relationships ... am I mostly the vine or the tree?  I guess, in truth, I am both, sometimes the vine and sometimes the tree.

Labyrinth at The (United Methodist) Wesley Center

As I was contemplating the question, I came to the outdoor labyrinth located just off the path.  Pausing at the entrance, reading the stone, "we walk by faith not by sight" 

I felt invited to step in, and let my faith in God's amazing love guide me through.  I've been meditating on Psalm 62:1a recently and with each step it bubbled up to the surface of my consciousness ... "for God alone my soul in silence waits."  

My walking settled into rhythm with these lovely words.  As I walked along the outer edge, I realized that the relationship between the vine and the tree was also like my relationship with God.  

God is the strong pine or perhaps an oak tree and I am the vine, hopefully I am green and growing!  Yet, I often cling to God just like the vine with "strings" binding the vine to the tree. 


And the poetry emerges ...

the tree and the vine

most intriguing

loving the vine

bound to the tree

with what looks like thread

and I wish that for myself

to be so intricately bound to God

that one can hardly see the vine

for it appears to simply be

and embellishment

and it is beautiful

so beautiful

yet the true beauty

is that unlike the vine-wrapped tree

God is not drained by my clinging

... soothing my soul