shadows

Yesterday morning I ditched bouncing around on a rubber ball in the confines of a four walled fitness class for the freedom of a walk with fresh, sunny air brushing my cheeks. As I strode over King's Bridge I happened to glance down at the murky, tidal water of the South Esk and there I was, clearly projected onto the river by the morning sun, my outline floating gently in the water's eddy. I resisted the urge to stop and wave at myself, before I experienced a strange, surreal, almost out-of-body moment. In observing the shadow cast by my body I was confronted with the shadow thrown by my life - what impression do I leave as I walk through each day?

Lately I am hard pressed to evaluate my imprint on the world. Life is busy. I tumble out of bed into the beckoning dawn and sixteen hours later collapse under the sheets with barely a second for reflection between. Crossing the bridge yesterday I grabbed hold of the opportunity to mindfully ponder the trail I am leaving.

No doubt I am like every other person, with some of my shadow well defined and graceful. At other times the shapes fall dark and gloomy... like the scowl I shot at the young man sprawled across the public footpath of a local food hall. Despite his efforts to draw in his seat I barely acknowledged the gesture - an ugly shadow best hidden in the shade. But then there are moments in which I am pleased with my shadow casting, when I lean in with generosity to the needy around me, or consciously appreciate the goodness found in people.

It was just a walk in the park incorporating a jaunt across the bridge, but in that moment God sparked my thinking and prompted me to consider how I might cast a shadow to be proud of.