Yesterday I walked alone in a wooded area next to the sea. A woman approached (staying 6 feet away) where the path divided.
I asked "Does it matter which way I go?" She answered that the two paths met again further along, and each was as long as the other. I chose one and continued toward thick tall trees, stepping lightly over tree roots, hopping from small path-boulder to small path-boulder, often pausing to look into the sky, to look closely at the bark of a tree, to breathe leaf-fresh air, to listen to wind or water moving nearby.
Then I noticed her, walking some distance behind me, pausing when I paused. And I realized that my slow enjoyment of this space was inconsiderate to this fellow walker who appeared hesitant to pass me along the thin trail. And I wondered why she had not taken the other path. So I stepped lightly off the trail, motioned to her that she could approach to pass, and reached for my pomegranate mask.
But she did not hasten by - she stopped and looked into my eyes and said "I love your colors" which left me speechless as my leaf-filled mind tried to make sense of the words, but then she said "I thought I was following a Tibetan monk in the woods - the colors, the way you move - like a Tibetan monk" After a silence, I said
"Maybe you were!" Her gaze softened, then she smiled broadly, and continued along the path ahead of me.
Looking down at fallen poplar leaves and gnarled path-trod roots of the massive trees all around as the softly shadowed air breathed in me, I marveled at finding a monk along this path.
