Sauntering Along Together: The Holiest of Holy walks

“Walking” by Henry David Thoreau

"I have met with but one or two persons in the course of my life who understood the art of Walking, that is, of taking walks — who had a genius, so to speak, for sauntering, which word is beautifully derived “from idle people who roved about the country, in the Middle Ages, and asked charity, under pretense of going a la Sainte Terre, to the Holy Land, till the children exclaimed, “There goes a Sainte-Terrer,” a Saunterer, a Holy-Lander. They who never go to the Holy Land in their walks, as they pretend, are indeed mere idlers and vagabonds; but they who do go there are saunterers in the good sense, such as I mean. Some, however, would derive the word from sans terre, without land or a home, which, therefore, in the good sense, will mean, having no particular home, but equally at home everywhere. For this is the secret of successful sauntering. He who sits still in a house all the time may be the greatest vagrant of all; but the saunterer, in the good sense, is no more vagrant than the meandering river, which is all the while sedulously seeking the shortest course to the sea."

One of my favourite things is to walk and talk side by side with folk, with Molly of course. I probably journey with several folk a week like this. It is always fascinating what comes, what is shared. I suspect I notice and experience far more in conversation with someone, than I do alone. The sum of our parts is far more than our individual units it seems. I was out with a friend and Molly the other day for several hours. We walked much further and longer than we had intended and to places we had not planned to go. We shared a great deal together as the three of us sauntered on, despite the wetness of the air. It was an absolute joy, filled with many blessing, including towards the end seeing the first snow drops of the year. Spring is near it feels and the snow drops are always a sign.

Friday just gone was traditionally considered the beginning of Spring; 2nd of February was traditionally the end of the Christmas Season marked with Candlemass and not Epiphany, the 12th day of Christmas. The snowdrops being a beautiful symbol of the new spring coming, a symbol of hope. Legend has it that they appeared as such symbols after Adam and Even were expelled from Eden. Eve was about to give up hope that the winter would never end, but an angel appeared and transformed some snowflakes into the flower snowdrop, showing that the winter will eventually come to an end. The flower is linked to the purification associated with “Candlemass” as the old rhyme goes:

“The Snowdrop, in purest white array, first rears her head in “Candlemass” day.

It felt this on that walk with a friend and Molly the other day. We stopped and paused and admired the snowdrop, that caught our eye. The first any of us had seen this year. Molly blessed them by sniffing and we sauntered off to find something to eat. I love to saunter with others. It matters not where we go, but how we go and it matters the company you keep on the journey. In some ways life is really about who you travel with, not where you travel too. I love to saunter along.

Now “Saunter” is one of those interesting words of disputed origin. There is a popular Meme floating around the internet. It is a quote, of disputed origin, on hiking or more accurately “sauntering” by John Muir. The quote cannot be found in his writing. It can be found in book written Albert Palmer “The Mountain Trail and its Message” and is reported as something Muir said while they were walking together, sauntering together perhaps.

Here is the quote:

by John Muir on hiking, titled “Sauntering”.

"Hiking - I don't like either the word or the thing. People ought to saunter in the mountains - not hike! Do you know the origin of that word 'saunter?' It's a beautiful word. Away back in the Middle Ages people used to go on pilgrimages to the Holy Land, and when people in the villages through which they passed asked where they were going, they would reply, "A la sainte terre,' 'To the Holy Land.' And so they became known as sainte-terre-ers or saunterers. Now these mountains are our Holy Land, and we ought to saunter through them reverently, not 'hike' through them."

It seems that no one knows the exact origin of the word saunter but many have suggested it is connected to some kind of pilgrimage to the “Holy Land”. Henry David Thoreau regarded “Sauntering” as making any journey and true walk (from “Walking”) as a Holy Pilgrimage, where a person is at home wherever they find themselves and that the two walking together make the walk a holy pilgrimage, this is a true companion.

I’m with Thoreau, I love such walks, because when you return from them, you feel that you have been enhanced as a person and have enhanced who you have journeyed with, some spirit has come to life in this holy journey together. Now whether the true origin of the word “Saunter” is linked to travellers on a journey to the Holy land or not doesn’t matter to me. I certainly see a lot of truth in both Muir’s reported thoughts on it and that of Thoreau’s.

For Thoreau walking wasn’t a utilitarian activity. It wasn’t purely about exercise. He wasn’t trying to reach at least 10,000 steps in a day. No, he consider it primarily a spiritual activity. I have found this to be true whether walking alone, with Molly and or with those people who I connect with in those special ways. As he said:

“The walking of which I speak has nothing in it akin to taking exercise, as it is called, as the sick take medicine at stated hours — as the Swinging of dumb-bells or chairs; but is itself the enterprise and adventure of the day. If you would get exercise, go in search of the springs of life. Think of a man’s swinging dumbbells for his health, when those springs are bubbling up in far-off pastures unsought by him!”

I was out with another friend on Tuesday morning. It was short walk in distance, just an hour around the park and King George V pond. We got talking about spiritual matters. We talked about a lost Biblical word, found in John’s Gospel, the word Paraclete, which meant comforter, companion, advocate, but not in a human form, more a spiritual form. In Christianity, it is what is understood as the Holy Spirit. I suspect that if we walk with others in that spirit and understanding then we are truly living spiritually alive. Maybe this is what it means to truly saunter together.

Jean Varnier in “Drawn into The Mystery of Jesus” catches the meaning nearly perfectly:

The word "paraclete" is one of those rich Greek words
that are difficult to translate completely.
A paraclete is someone who defends and comforts,
and speaks up for and helps a weak person.
So the word "paraclete" can be translated as "advocate," as well as
"comforter," "consoler," or "helper."
Etymologically, the word "paraclete" means
"the one who answers the call."
What a beautiful name!
God is the one who answers the cry of the weak and those in need.
A mother is a "paraclete" for her child
when she answers the cry of her little one,
hold and loves him or her.
Every time we look after a person in need and answer their cry,
we become paracletes.
Jesus was a paraclete for his disciples.

The Paraclete is given
to those who are lonely and need the presence of a friend,
to those who are lost and poor in spirit
and who cry out for God.

Perhaps to saunter with another is what it truly means to be a friend, to truly live spiritually alive. Perhaps this is what we are truly here for. To be a Paraclete to one another.

To saunter together, is to be a true friend, a companion. To walk with a friend is to improve both your lives, to bring a greater spirit to life. Such friendship is a key component of Buddhism. Beautifully illustrated in the following tale.

One day while the Buddha was out walking with his attendant Ananda, who declared, “Teacher, to have companions and comrades on the great way is so amazing! I have come to realise that friendship is fully half of an authentic spiritual life.” They continued walking in silence when eventually the Buddha responded. “No, dear one. Without companions and comrades, no one can live into the deep, finding the true harmonies of life, to achieve authentic wisdom. To say it simply, friendship is the whole of the spiritual life.”

Could this be true? Is friendship the whole of the spiritual life?

Well I would say in such relationships, as we saunter together that greater spirit comes to life. This is the key. To be a good friend and companion, to journey on side by side together. To saunter on sharing yourself and in so doing a greater spirit comes to life which blesses your life and the lives of those you come into contact with.

I shared the picture of the snow drop with many people. I know it helped one in particular who finds January a real struggle. It showed them that Spring is nearly here, it lifted their spirit as so many friends have done with me at times.

Something so simple, but so easy to miss. It was by journeying together that we were able to notice those tiny snow drops in Dunham Massey as Molly, a friend and myself sauntered on together on our little Holy Journey together side by side.

Please find a video devotion based on the material in this "blogspot"

So Do We Reap What We Sow?

“Harvest” is a time for reaping, but I also see it as a time for reflection; “Harvest” is a time just before Autumn sets in and all around us slows down; “Harvest is a time to gather in all that has occurred in our lives; “Harvest” is a time to feast on the good and perhaps chuck out what is of no use.

We will, before we are probably aware of it, soon enter into the winter of the year. Let us hope we have gathered enough to see us through the darkness of winter; let us hope we have planted enough, and cared for what we have planted, so that our harvest will be a fulfilling one, that it will leave us fulfilled.

So how is your harvest this year? How does your garden grow?

In Paul's letter to the Galatian’s Ch 6 v 7 you hear that well known phrase “for you reap whatever you sow”.
This roughly translates as you get whatever you give off in life; that life gives back to you in proportion to what you give to it.

These words bring to my mind the story of “Echo”...

A man and his son were walking in the forest.

Suddenly the boy trips and feeling a sharp pain he screams, "Ahhhhh."

Surprised, he hears a voice coming from the mountain, "Ahhhhh"

Filled with curiosity, he screams:

"Who are you?",

but the only answer he received is:

"Who are you?"

This makes him angry, so he screams:

"You are a coward!",

and the voice answers:

"you are a coward!"



He looks at his father, asking,

"Dad, what is going on?"

"son," the man replies, "pay attention!"

Then he screams, "I admire you!"

The voice answers: "I admire you!"

The father shouts, "You are wonderful!",

and the voice answers:

"You are wonderful!"



The boy is surprised, but still can't understand what is going on.

Then the father explains,



"People call this 'ECHO',

but truly it is 'LIFE!' Life always gives you back what you give out!

Life is a mirror of your actions.

If you want more love, give more love!

If you want more kindness, give more kindness!

If you want more understanding and respect, give more understanding and respect!

If you want people to be patient and respectful to you, give patience and respect!

This rule of nature applies to every aspect of our lives."



Life always gives you back what you give out.

your life is not a coincidence, but a mirror of your doings.

I do believe that generally speaking life is echo, what we give off we often get back, “We reap what we sow,” but that this not the full story. It is important to realise and understand that we are not the only force at work in our lives. There is injustice present, at some level, in every life and that we do not always get what we deserve. That said we are not passive, what we do and what we do not do matters. We are co-creators in the dance of life. While we are not the force, we are a part of the force and we have the force running through us.

I recently came across the following words by the 19th century Transcendentalist Henry David Thorau (1817-1862)


“On fields o’er which the reaper’s hand has pass’d

Lit by the harvest moon and autumn sun,

My thoughts like stubble floating in the wind

And of such fineness as October airs,

There after harvest could I glean my life

A richer harvest reaping without toil,

And weaving gorgeous fancies at my will

In subtler webs than finest summer haze.

It matters what we are and what we do, we are not passive in life, but then again neither are we the only force at work. That life force is within our DNA, but we are not God and neither are we the only force at work in our lives.

Every seed we plant needs external help. We can plant the seeds and we can care for the seeds, but they do not grow merely from our effort. Each seed is dependent on many things. It needs good soil to land upon, it needs water and it needs sunlight and it needs care and attention. Most of these are things that are to some extent out of our control.

There is also something unknown and mysterious in how these seeds grow. Yes I know that we can explain the mechanics, but not fully and we cannot truly answer the how and why. There is an unknown mystery in the whole process; a mystery that does not truly offer us any guarantees. We can do everything to the letter, to the book and yet our crops can still fail. This is due to forces at work, forces beyond our control. It is always worth remembering that it rains on the righteous and the un-righteous. The weather pays no attention to our plans and designs.

My auntie Catherine, her partner Robert and her son Edward grow strawberries. Each year they hope for a good crop and every summer I have heard continual tales of woe about these strawberries that never come out as they should. Each year they question whether it is worth putting all the effort in. Each year they plan various tactics to create the perfect crop for the few weeks they are in season. Each year it seems has been a bad year due to too much rain, or not enough rain, or the wrong kind of rain at the wrong time of year. The last two years I am told have been particularly unfruitful.

Well this year they prepared like they have never done before and this year was the best crop they’ve ever had. Now was it because of all the extra special drainage Rob put in or was it just that it rained at the right time and the sun shone at the right time...who knows, not I. I’m just grateful they had a good year, although I know that the fact it was such a good year was exhausting for them all. Here’s to another good harvest next year, but one that is not too exhausting.

You see whether we have a good harvest or not is not just down to us, we do not always reap exactly what we sow, there are other forces at work. We cannot control every element of life; there are powers at work other than our own. Sometimes everything can be destroyed, can be blown away by forces way beyond ourselves. This can lead us to believe that all is lost, but this not necessarily so. We can begin again at any time. Seeds can begin to grow again, even after utter devastation. This brings to mind the words “Seed” by Linda Hogan.

From“Dwellings. A Spiritual History of the Living World” by Linda Hogan,

"Seed. There are so many beginnings. In Japan, I recall, there were wildflowers that grew in the far, cool region of mountains. The bricks of Hiroshima, down below, were formed of clay from these mountains, and so the walls of houses and shops held the dormant trumpet flower seeds. But after one group of humans killed another with the explosive power of life’s smallest elements split wide apart, the mountain flowers began to grow. Out of destruction and bomb heat and the falling of walls, the seeds opened up and grew. What a horrible beauty, the world going its own way, growing without us. But perhaps this, too, speaks of survival, of hope beyond our time."

Out of the destruction of Hiroshima these new seeds grew. Out of total and utter despair new seeds of hope grew. Isn’t that life, isn’t that our lives.

Tell me about your harvest this year? Have the seeds you planted failed to grow this year? Are you left with a bad harvest? Is this because you have not nurtured and cared for your crop as you should have or is it due to forces way beyond your control? Either way do not despair, hope springs eternal, even in the Autumn and the winter. There is always time for new beginnings. Let’s gather in the harvests of our lives and lets offer thanks and praise for all that we have been given, even if it’s a hard lesson, let’s give thanks for the lesson.

Tomorrow is another day and we can begin again in love.

Time: A Talking Head Reflection

I haven't got time for this

With a timid voice and idolizing eyes, the little boy greeted his dad as he returned from work, "Daddy, how much do you earn an hour?"

Greatly surprised, but giving his boy a glaring look, the father said,
"Look, son, not even your mother knows that. Don't bother me now, I'm tired."

"But Daddy, just tell me please! How much do you earn an hour," the boy insisted.

So the dad, finally giving up, replied: "£20 an hour."

"Okay, Daddy? Could you loan me £10?" the boy asked.

Showing his restlessness and positively disturbed, the dad shouted, "So that was the reason you asked how much I earn, right? Go to sleep and don't bother me anymore!"

It was already dark and the dad was thinking over what he said and was feeling guilty. He thought to himself maybe the boy wanted to buy something.

Finally, trying to ease his mind, the dad went to his son's room.
"Are you asleep, son?" asked the dad.

"No, Daddy. Why?" replied the boy, partially asleep.

"Here's the money you asked for earlier," the dad said.

"Thanks, Daddy!" rejoiced the son, while putting his hand under his pillow and removing some money. "Now I have enough!! Now I have £ 20!" the boy said to his dad, who was gazing at his son, confused at what the boy had just said.

And then the son asked his dad.

"Daddy, could you sell me one hour of your time?"

Time is a precious commodity, perhaps a priceless one...

“I haven’t got time for this”. It’s a phrase I’ve found myself repeating over and over again, these last few weeks. “I haven’t got time for this”. It began to develop over the Christmas period and intensified as I came towards the end of the year. Now you’d think that this would have come to an end as the new year developed, but it seems to have got worse this last week or so.

If someone were to watch me sat at my desk at the beginning of last week I am sure that they would draw the conclusion that I am some kind of mad man. Yes ok I have had some real problems with technology, I’ve had intermittent internet access and no telephone, which has impinged on my ability to do my work. Last Sunday it really came to a head. I had finished worship and had to be at an interfaith meeting a little later. I had an hour or so in-between and I had emails I needed to reply to as well as a need to publish my latest blog and to post it out there.  It had to be done that day! I was already frustrated because BT had told me they couldn’t repair my broadband problems until Wednesday and so I decided to go to a local cafe with my laptop and work from there. I sat there desperate to get on with it but was again held up by technical problem. I was becoming increasingly frustrated by all of this, it seemed to take forever to get online and when I did it just ran slower and slower. There I sat muttering to myself, “I haven’t get time for this, I haven’t got time for this, I haven’t got time for this”...madness, just utter madness...when I got home from the meeting later I sat down to eat and just began chuckling at myself at the way I’d been that day and that ridiculous line...”I haven’t got time for this”...utter madness

Time is such a precious commodity, we get just 24 hours in each day and it is important how we choose to spend what we are each given. This got me thinking of this peice of wisdom I recently came accross. Again it got me chuckling as I reflected on my recent madness.

Imagine if you had a bank that credited your account each morning with £86,000 that carried over no balance from day to day...Allowed you to keep no cash in your account, and every evening cancelled whatever part of the amount you failed to use during the day, what would you do? Draw out every pound every day, of course, and use it to your advantage! Well, you have such a bank, and its name is TIME! Every morning it credits you with 86,400 seconds. Every night it rules off as lost whatever of this you failed to invest to good purpose. It carries over no balances, it allows no overdrafts. Each day it opens a new account with you. If you fail to use the day's deposits, the loss is yours. There is no going back. There is no drawing against tomorrow.

Time truly is a precious commodity and how we use it maybe our only real freedom. Now of course we all have commitments, things that we have to do each day. That said we all still have so much time and I wonder how much of it we waste, worrying about the time left or with ill feeling about the time that has already gone and will not come back. How much of our day do we waste on either worry or resentment or with crazy statements like, “I haven’t got time for this.” These kind of frustrations just block us from experiencing the precious joy of the moment and none of us know just exactly how many of those we have left.

I made space over the Christmas period to spend a little time with friends and family, but I think I could have made more. I could have given more of my time, but I do think I used the little time I had well. Two friends, a dear couple, who I have known since I was a teenager shared a 40^th birthday party, it allowed me to catch up with so many folk I had known for oh so many years. It enabled me to bring back memories that I had once forgotten. What is really interesting about many of those memories is that at one time they were sad and painful and yet today they fill me with joy. I re-member so much of my life differently today; I re-bind those thoughts and feelings from a very different perspective today.

I had some other beautiful conversations with familyover Christmas, which will continue as time passes. One blessing that I deeply apprecate these days is that I can spend time with each person I grew up with and just experience that gentle meaningful love that we share. I love listening to them talk about oh so much. Perhaps the greatest gift of my life today is the personal reconciliation I have experienced with all of my family. We have rebound ourselves together and I know that this has brought so much joy and peace to others. This is true religion in my eyes. Remember (re-member) that the word religion comes from religare which means to re-bind together. Every act of reconcilaition is a truly religious act.

The time we have with one another is oh so precious; we never know if the conversation we are having with our loved one will be our last one. I was acutely aware of this as I sat with my grand dad on Christmas day evening. I listened to him and loved him and I let him love me. Not in some special way, just in the ordinary way, the way that really matters.

I love the following by the nineteenth century Transcendentalist Henry David Thoreau...it speaks of time well spent...

“Why should we live with such hurry and waste of life? …Time is but the stream I go fishing in. Sometimes in a summer morning, having taken my accustomed bath, I sat in my sunny doorway from sunrise till noon. I realize what the Orientals mean by contemplation…I left the woods for as good a reason as I went there. It seemed to me that I had several more lives to live. It is remarkable how easily and insensibly we fall into a particular route, and make a beaten track for ourselves. I learned this, at least, by my experiment, that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams, and endeavours to live the life which he has imagined, he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours. In proportion as he simplifies his life the laws of the universe will appear less complex, and solitude will not be solitude, nor will poverty be poverty, nor weakness weakness.”

Now some will say that this is just self indulgence, wasting ones time, but is it? Thoreau doesn’t tell us what he experiences while he sits there in the doorway of his cabin; he does not describe what he saw, what he felt; he just tells us that he was there, he was present in that sacred moment; he tells us that he is paying attention to the world around him – he called this contemplation.

We all have time but it is limited, just 86.400 seconds a day to draw on and it is limited to those 24 hours, you cannot carry even a second over into the next. There may not be a next day. So as time is limited how should we then spend it? Well another of the great transcendentalist Ralph Waldo Emerson suggested the following.

 “To laugh often and love much. To win and hold the respect of intelligent persons, and the affection of little children. To earn the praise of honest critics and to endure, without flinching, the betrayal of false friends. To appreciate beauty always, whether in earth’s creations or men and women’s handiwork.

To have sought for and found the best in others and to have given it oneself. To leave the world better than one found it, whether by nurturing a child or a garden patch, writing a cheery letter, or working to redeem some social condition.

To have played with enthusiasm, laughed with exuberance, and sung with exultation.  To go down to dust and dreams knowing that the world is a little bit better, and that even a single life breathes easier because we have lived well, that is to have succeeded!”

If we make good use of our time, the 86,400 seconds we have each day, we will make an impact on every moment that follows on into eternity. We have enough time to pause and contemplate the magnificence of life in its glorious ordinariness and we have time to listen to one another, even if we are in a hurry. The key is to no longer fall for the delusion that “we haven’t got time for this.” It is certainly a lesson I need to re-member. Because the truth is that we do have the time for this and everything else, we just need to pay attention to what is important, to who and what we love and to whatever the task is that has been assigned to us.

I’m going to end this little blog ith a final little story that I recently came across...

While at the park one day, a woman sat down next to a man on a bench near a playground.  “That’s my son over there,” she said, pointing to a little boy in a red jumper who was gliding down the slide.  “He’s a fine looking boy” the man said. “That’s my daughter on the bike in the white dress.”

Then, looking at his watch, he called to his daughter. “It’s time to go, Melissa?”  Melissa pleaded, “Just five more minutes, Dad. Please? Just five more minutes.”  The man nodded and Melissa continued to ride her bike to her heart’s content. Minutes passed and the father stood and called again to his daughter. “Time to go now?”

Again Melissa pleaded, “Five more minutes, Dad. Just five more minutes.”  The man smiled and said, “OK.”  “My, you certainly are a patient father,” the woman responded.

The man smiled and then said, “Her older brother Tommy was killed by a drunk driver last year while he was riding his bike near here. I never spent much time with Tommy and now I’d give anything for just five more minutes with him. I’ve vowed not to make the same mistake with Melissa.  She thinks she has five more minutes to ride her bike. The truth is, I get Five more minutes to watch her play.”

“We have got time for this”...utter madness...if we haven’t then we need to make the time