We are surrounded by signs that tell us what to do, what to avoid, how to behave. Many come in the form of commands. Stop. Yield. Slow. Turn this way. Don’t turn that way. Others are meant to protect the vulnerable. Children playing. Beware of animals. The animals vary depending on the part of country. Horse. Deer. Bear. These are the signs we see mostly while driving or riding along highways.

Of course there are other signs for our indoor awareness, those to guide our indoor behavior. In the library, we are reminded to shhhhh…..keep quiet. This is a reminder that seems to be ignored more and more. Many buildings display signs to remind us to keep an eye on our belongings….purses, computers, children. There are also the indoor signs that point us in specific directions. Things like ’emergency exit’ come to mind or ‘no entry’.

This past week I was walking on one of my treasured landscapes on Whidbey Island near Seattle. This place, Greenbank Farms, is one of those truly beautiful, magical places that has drawn me back over and over again. It is a plot of land smack in the middle of the island hosting an organic farm and a small cafe that bakes amazing pie. The beauty of the place is that you can stand out in the field above the gardens and be able to see the water that surrounds the island on both sides. When we are visiting the Seattle sons we always try make our way there. This week was no exception.

As we started our walk past the gardens that, at this time of year, only held cabbages and the green, leafy trees of kale, we marveled that these things were growing. The frigid landscape of Minnesota was still ringing in our bones. But there they were…..hardy vegetables that stick to the ribs and offer up their healthy, green nutrients.

Just past the cabbages, we noticed a sign on a sandwich board standing at the beginning of a trail that leads through the field. It was not a sign that urged us to stop or beware. Instead, it was a ‘Gentleness Alert’. The laminated paper was probably placed there for a New Year’s celebration of some kind but its encouraging words seemed to transcend that particular holiday. They seemed words we all might be able to begin each day with. This sign encouraged a reflection on the ways we all need be gentle with ourselves and others. It went on to remind the reader that everyone….everyone…is simply doing the best they can and that this being human means being fallible. This is true for all of us not just some. So, the sign encouraged……be forgiving and be gentle.

Standing on this beautiful spot of land I was aware of how the land itself modeled this gentle behavior for we fallible humans. It stood muddy and without much to offer in the way of a productive life with the exception of the kale and cabbages. Signs of past harvests lay like brown clumps looking more like garbage that the fullness of what they had been or might be in just a few short weeks. The grasses underfoot, also brown and flattened by the nearly always present rain, looked out at the water with the same expectation of ‘something more’just as we humans do. And yet the land itself welcomed us without apology, opened its arms wide enough to draw us in and urge us to rest in the rhythm of the water that lapped at the shores on our right and our left.

The sign placed there by humans to alert walkers to the wisdom of a gentle walk into the new year continued to sound its message. Walking, I was reminded of the people I may have been less than gentle with in the year past. I felt a tug of guilt and sadness at my grace-less behavior. In the next steps, I thought also of the times I am probably too hard on myself for one thing or another. Being a fallible human being can be a nasty business at times. That is why it is good to remember we are all of us doing the best we can. Day after blessed day. Cabbages and kale are wonderful,leafy green vegetables but do not a steady diet make. The land that makes a home between two bodies of water will soon yield goodness beyond imagining as will we all.

Gentleness be upon us.