The Gate Wasn't Locked
Yesterday, the Cotswold Way felt like a gift. Today felt more like someone had presented me with a challenge. It wasn't a difficult walk, exactly. (Well, it was 13 miles and 2500 feet of elevation gain. But, I digress...) It was more as if the path had decided to ask me a series of questions.
Today there were no butterflies. No benches. I only passed five people. There were steep climbs, muddy slopes, on-and-off drizzle, slippery moss-covered loose stones, stinging nettles, and enough elevation gain to make my legs fully aware of their existence. And yet, somehow, I loved it. Every decision mattered, and the day kept presenting me with small puzzles and asking me to solve them. I felt so alive, and walking beside me, this living, beautiful, and puzzling world..
The first question arrived in the form of a gate. Three women coming the other direction told me that the gate just behind them was locked and that I would have to climb over it. When I reached it, however, I discovered that the chain hanging across the gate wasn't attached to anything at all. The gate opened easily. The obstacle existed to them only because they assumed it did.
Later, I managed to do the opposite. I spotted a gate in the distance and convinced myself I knew a better way to reach it. I left the path and forged downhill through tall grasses, an entire herd of lovely brown cows, and their plentiful cow patties. But when I finally reached the gate, it was wrapped in razor wire and genuinely locked. Meanwhile, the path I had abandoned ran peacefully on the other side of the fence. I had to battle a rosebush and more razorwire to climb the fence.
Apparently, life has a sense of humor.
Along the way, I passed another gate bearing this sign:
I loved it immediately, simply because of the wording. The sign did not say Do Not Enter, or Turn Back, or Danger. It simply offered information. Beware of the bull. Proceed if you wish. Just understand what you're walking into.
In this, my 56th year of being alive, I often think that wisdom may have less to do with avoiding challenges and more to do with seeing them clearly. Some gates appear locked and aren't. Some shortcuts lead directly into razor wire. Some warnings are worth heeding. And sometimes the path isn't asking us to turn back. It's simply asking us to pay attention.
Tomorrow, the path will ask of me something else.
For now, I'm content simply knowing that not every gate is locked, not every warning means stop, and that somewhere in England there is a field containing a bull important enough to warrant his own sign.
Notice things, my darlings.
~ Shannon ᭄᭡
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