After investing so much time and pouring so much energy into my first paper of the semester, turning it in and walking away last Thursday was confusing; like stepping out of a world you’ve confined yourself in for too long, or removing a heavy visor that you’d almost forgotten you were wearing.
So I went for a walk. I can’t remember the last time I took a walk for the sake of taking a walk.
It was powerfully windy that day. I had thought I would be praying or singing, or at least humming as I went along, but I didn’t. I just tried to take in what was around me. The wind filled the silence.
The ground was much muddier than I’d expected. The surface of the lake wavered and shifted like a thing possessed. The gusts tossing and shaping the waters blasted my face and pocketed hands with cold. Inspired by a photograph a friend had taken, I diverged from my route to explore a new area. The ground grew muddier, the sights more breathtaking. The wind remained strong.
The Spirit is closely associated with breath or wind. Our breathing in and out daily is a reminder of the life that was breathed into our first ancestor, Adam. And now, as the wind churned and blew with strength, it made even what is not alive seem living. The near-barren trees shivered, the nearby barn groaned like a forgotten giant of old, and the waters took on a thousand quickened forms.
All this with no words.