I don’t think I have been on a certain path. There has never been a time when I felt I knew where I was going or even wanted to go. The path beyond the step I was taking at that moment has mostly seemed vague and undefined. Even when I tried to give my path dimension or direction, it has surprised me again and again.
Even when I made promises and plans, my path hasn’t always somplied with my sense of direction. I’ve made vows, laying out a path of certainty. But things haven’t turned out as I anticipted or even planned. Most recently, my planned long-term relationships have shifted and the path I was on dissolved or certainly changed.
I thought my life of a monk was on a path of apparent certainty. From the age of 13, I knew where I was headed and what the path would look like. All I had to do was follow it. Even that path evolved and I discovered that the path I was on was much deeper and ill-defined than the clear path of a monk in robes. What I discovered while following the path of a monk, was that the path slowly, even subtly took me in a direction I and those around me scarcely anticipated.
Rather than living in a community of monks and teaching the tenants of religion, I found myself living on my own and generally outside the realm of religious teaching. Instead I found that the path I had been on had been secretely preparing me to run the State’s major water pollution control program with insights gained as a monk. I went on to run an environmental program for Dakota County, still walking the path of a monk though no longer resembling a monk.
No longer looking like a monk, I was in fact walking the path of a monk in a secular environment. It was a path not at all foreseen, planned or anticipated. It was not a path my superiors in the monastery had in mind for me. In many ways, it was a path that chose me, not a path that I deliberately chose.
For a time, my unplanned path took me into the community of St. Stephen’s Church where I was one of the forces and architects who reshaped the liturgy. It was a clear departure from the plans of the Catholic Church. But it had all the savor of the life of a monk who walked in the present, making each step real and genuine. I had no notion at all where it was leading, but even then I knew when it was time to step away and follow a changing path that beckoned me elsewhere even while it was unclear.
Soon after putting aside the robes of a monk, I was no longer walking in an alone and solitary way. I have found myself walking along side several close companions. We have supported one another and I often drew on the depth of awareness taught me in the monastery. I have learned that even in relationships, a promised future path is something of an illusion. I have learned that my enduring commitment has been to be fully present, to be real, to be genuine. While I am clear that I can be kind, honest and gentle with each step on the path, I can be less certain what the future holds for the path I am on.
Perhaps, it is simply futile to try to figure where my path is leading. I am not even sure that my path is going anywhere. I am simply on the path, and I have no path to follow. There is no path of the past or of the future. I cannot know where the path leads, nor is it useful to try to figure that out. I want to be aware as best I can of where I stand at any moment. I want to feel the full exprience of each step I take. But I don’t aspire to know where the next step will fall. I just know that I want to be fully there.
The path, perhaps, is real, but only in the sense that it exists beneath me. I know that I am on a path. Where it goes is not of great importance to me. It is important that I deeply feel the presence of the path on which I stand at any given moment. It is important to me that I am aware where my path is, not where it is going. I have no path to f0llow.