More Paths that Wind Through Goldenrod*
I took a walk with my friend Kevin Laughlin yesterday....and decided to add pictures from the walk to this essay.
Pictures are from a walk I took with Kevin Laughlin" on 5-25-18, where he was kind enough to take me to some of the places he loves to share with others. He guided me through a labyrinth, across bridges ("What do you need to let go of..."), hugging trees, and more. He is a certified Spiritual Director so he shared much wisdom with me.
Beautiful morning amidst the natural and beyond. I thought these photos were perfect to add to this essay I wrote in January, 2018.
“Ordinarily I go to the woods alone, with not a single
friend, for they are all smilers and talkers and therefore
unsuitable.”
~Mary Oliver, How I Go To The Woods, in Devotions, p. 64
Much has been made about how hard it is to be an introvert in the hustle-bustle-rustle-tussle of our de-ruralized, social-media-ized, globally supersized petri dish of intermingled culture where we dwell these days. Hard to get away sometimes. Hard to find a dirt path in a maze of concrete sidewalks.
One task I enjoyed whilst a consultant years ago was to help employees become more effective in their work. Administering the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator® (the MBTI®) was one of several tools that helped us to do that. One of the preferences the inventory identified was introversion-extraversion.
Some people found that they got energy from being around other people, and that the way they thought best was by talking with people. Others discovered, more likely reaffirmed, that they felt more comfortable first thinking things through by themselves and then discussing matters with others. Being with people drained their energy.
It has been years since I took the instrument, but I have always scored high on extraversion. I prefer, it would seem, to be with people. To think by talking.
But these days I wonder how I would score. I now seek more time for slow pondering with a few people, and am likely to eschew big parties. I cherish solitude, usually a little silent time for a least a few minutes every day and sometimes for an entire day, or even days.
My son Shane nudges me to get out of my chair, out of my house, out of town, and out into the nature. He’s so right. I, like many, need paths that wind through goldenrod, and fewer concrete blocks to trod.
Mary Oliver continues her poem, How I Go To The Woods, with a beautiful description of her time there alone, and then concludes, “If you have ever gone to the woods with me,” she says, “I must love you very much.”
I am not a psychologist. I don’t know whether the desire for time alone, for quiet, is nature or nurture, situational or developmental, a passing fancy or elemental. Are we all introverts to some degree? Or do solitary woods call just a few?
“I can hear the almost unhearable sound of the roses singing.”
~Mary Oliver, How I Go To The Woods, in Devotions, p. 64
Oliver, M. (2017). How I Go To the Woods. In Devotions: the selected poems of Mary Oliver (p. 64). New York: Penguin Press.
* With a tip of the hat to Mary Oliver. If you really want to read about goldenrod, see Oliver, M. (2017). Goldenrod. In Devotions: the selected poems of Mary Oliver (p. 283). New York: Penguin Press.
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