Sabbath #52

This week, a miasma. Locked out and locked in. Even the labyrinth shortened it’s circuit and I ended with a shortened walk not even making it to the center before I was shown the way out. Shown the way out. Early.  This morning I read: The soul suffers from a thousand suspicions… Even our own natures can sometimes fool us… When I am in this state, stillness doesn’t work. I need movement. Walking. So I walked the beach. I walked past herons, egrets, geese, mallards, a few sand fiddlers. I walked around the brown marsh, pine trees laden with cones. The sun was not shinning. The wind hard. Still I wore dark glasses.Wanted muteness. No transformation, no discovery. Only walking and the blinking of eyes.