Just begin. Always begin again.
Sit in meditation. Move prayerfully,
or at least thoughtfully, though,

really, it’s better to let thoughts fall
from your hands like sand as you
embark on this small pilgrimage,

the one with others walking ahead
or behind you, some going in
the opposite direction,

making turns you can’t fathom—
why are they going that way?—
walking with you.

Always someone—or many
someones—walking with you,
waiting for you.

So walk. Solvitur ambulando—
it is solved by walking—
St. Augustine is said to have said.

And perhaps he did, but
we cannot know for sure.
Here’s what we do know:

Any path, whether seemingly
straight or circuitous, will take
you where you need to go,

though you have no idea where
that will be on the next leg
of your journey.

Just begin. One step. Begin again.
Another step. Notice art and magic
in the broken bits,

the cut-apart bits, the stray threads
and scraps of fabric that make up
a life.

Keep walking. Allow for surprise,
for unexpected beauty in less-than-
beautiful spaces.

The way is made by walking,
by noticing, by collecting gifts
strewn on the path.

They’re for you. Pick them up.
Dear one, hold the gifts
in your grateful hands

and walk on.

•••

Thanks to Jen, Kate and Frances, for walking and writing with me this week. And with gratitude to the Unitarian Universalist Society of Sacramento for the use and inspiration of their labyrinth.