The last several days have been jam packed with wonderful things….sons arriving home from college, beautiful, inspiring music at worship, plans for summer events, graduation parties and the anticipation of summer activities and all the plans that need to be made for them.  When you pile all this onto the regular demands of daily life it can be,  truth be told,a whirlwind. I, of course, recognize that this is pure blessing. There are many people who would love to have this manner of activity flowing into their lives. And so I don't mean for my words to be complaint, simply report.

Late Thursday afternoon I was on my way to a graduation party in between a day of work and an evening meeting. I had decided to take the scenic route along Lake of the Isles and Lake Calhoun in hopes of having a few moments of quiet, slower driving. Going along the lakes, the frenzy of day began to slide away as I watched joggers, bicyclists, and frisbee players enjoying the cloudy, though dry day. Young children climbed all over the playground that sits on the shore of the lake as the began to live into the freedom of summer. Walkers made their way around the lakes, talking animatedly with their companions.

As my eyes strayed away from the lake, I looked toward the back garden of the Zen center that faces the lake.What I saw caused me to nearly slam on my brakes as I glimpsed about 6-8 people doing walking meditation. Their bodies were moving so slowly that they seemed like statues except for the ever so slight movement of an arm, a hand, a head, a foot.. Their eyes were intently focused as the tiniest muscles propelled them at aslower than tortoise-like gait. The sheer beauty and silence of their pace stunned me out of the nature of the movement of my fast-moving day. I wanted to pull over, abandon my car like one who had been 'raptured' and join in their slow, deliberate, breath-filled movements. My whole body was filled with such deep longing for what they had!

Over the last several days, I have thought so many times of what I witnessed on Thursday and the deep longing it placed within me. I don't know if I'd ever be able to slow down to that kind of pace or not but I'd sure like to try. For some reason, when I have thought of those practicing this walking meditation, I have kept thinking of the insect, the praying mantis. Have you ever observed the slow, deliberate movements of these green, stick-like creatures? I remembered the summer my brother captured several and kept them in jars for our curious child selves to ponder. I would stare into their eyes, the multi-faceted lenses that seemed far too big for their faces. Why had the walking meditation triggered that in my memory?

Then today, as I was searching for a poem of healing for an upcoming worship service, I saw these words: "May my body be a prayerstick for the world." I have no idea who Joan Halifax is, or why she wrote these words, but somehow I think she must have seen humans practicing walking meditation. We must be kindred spirits. 

For all those who walk their prayers slowly, like sticks, and for those who rush by, like fireflies, may we all offer our prayers to the world, as we learn from one another the power of the walking. So be it.