A Father’s Guidance

You will notice that my website and my social media posts have a myriad of nature photos. In my free time, you will find me in nature, where I lose all tack of time — and occasionally my whereabouts as well — while photographing her beauty. I do, however, always find my way back, and it is thanks to my father.

I credit my father for my love of nature. Sunday afternoons were spent tramping through the woods, studying the flora and the fauna, enjoying their beauty and learning about the many ways of Mother Nature. 

As a child, I was notorious for getting lost in the woods. I was a child that wandered in awe of the beauty and I simply followed the beauty wherever it led me. Everything was so beautiful and I just wanted to drink all of it in. My family’s story was that I was born without a sense of direction. No worries, my father was a brilliant tracker and he always found me. In my early years of losing my way, my father’s incredible tracking skills were not required. My blood-curdling screams led him right to me and scared everything else away. My father was very patient with me. Instead of stopping me from going in the woods, he taught me how to keep myself safe in the woods. He taught me to walk quietly, to become one with what was around me and to respect all life in the forest including the animals that could hurt a child. I often felt the trees were my guardians and when I did lose my way, I felt comforted by them. Sometimes it felt like they reached down their branches and embraced me in love. When I sat with my back against a tree I felt strong and safe. My father would tell me not to panic, instead to be still, close my eyes, breathe deeply and listen. Then when I was calm, I was to open my eyes and the guidance would be there. It took some practice but in time I learned to trust that wisdom and usually found my way. A couple times my father found me before I found my way home.

Forty years later, in the summer of 2013, I was walking the Camino in the darkness of the early morning hours and I missed an arrow that would have kept me on the Camino. When I arrived in a small village, I knew I had missed the guidance. It was still dark; the first hint of light from the rising sun was on the horizon but it wasn't enough to get a sense of the greater landscape around me. As I wandered around the village looking for Camino signs, which appeared to be nonexistent, I thought I might find an early riser that could direct me but instead I came upon three other pilgrims who had lost their ways as well. We were from different parts of the globe but amazingly we all spoke English and each shared what we thought we knew about where we were. The truth was we didn’t know where we were but we did know we were not on the Camino. I could feel myself being pulled into their stress of being lost. I took a deep breath and I could hear my father's voice reminding me that I would always be guided. I may lose my way but I would never be lost if I listened to the guidance. I was standing in front of a brick wall. I shut out the chatter of the other pilgrims and I went deep within and when I opened my eyes there was a light on the wall in a shape of an arrow. I knew that if I walked in that direction I would be back on the Camino, and that is exactly what happened — but not before experiencing some humour. When I pointed to the arrow on the wall, the three male pilgrims told me it was just the light and I was imagining things. I wished them a “Buen Camino” and walked in the direction of the arrow. They told me I was crazy and should stay with them, that I would get lost.  I smiled and walked on trusting the guidance that has never failed me. Thank you, my beautiful wise father for teaching me how to always find my way.