Quiet Times for the New Year

January, 2007

by: Brodie McClain

We went on a walk the other day – remember? It was just the two of us. You seemed distracted, your eyes darting this way and that. You seemed to be waiting for someone or something and I just wanted some time with you, just the two of us. I shared my heart with you, my longings, my desires, but you weren’t listening. O, you kept responding, with your token questions and well-timed grunts but I could tell something more important was on your mind. I just couldn’t seem to get your attention and our eyes never met though we walked for some fifteen minutes. It looked as if you wanted to be with me – you made the time, you even got up early to walk with me. But after a few steps it was clear you really just wanted to walk with yourself and then tell others you walked with me. You did a lot of talking and got yourself quite a ways ahead of me on the path. You seemed frustrated that I didn’t stroll along at your pace. And the entire walk I felt like you were eagerly waiting for each minute to pass so you could move on with real life. And I tried to tell you that this was real life. I tried to explain that when our walk was over you went back to the shadow and the substance was here on the path. But by that time we were already ticking away our last few minutes and you had your little book out ordering your shadow.

Maybe we can take a walk later today, when you have some time. And maybe it can just be the two of us.