Head Walker to Heart Warrior Part 3

Last July, I promised to share more of my journey to having a more peaceful spirit. Shortly after that, a series of events took priority, and I didn't finish the story. When I finally had time, I had lost some notes I wanted to use. I found them again, and now it's time to finish this story! To anyone out there who remembers my first two posts on the topic, please forgive me for not keeping my promise sooner, but this is a beginning, the part where I first heard the term Head Walkers and Heart Warriors. And this time I promise to continue.

It was a sunny Monday morning in July when I remembered my friend Wendy's request on the weekend, that I send a copy of my blog post, Messenger, to her mother, Lois. I printed it off and carefully folded it into an envelope.

I walked into our small post office and handed the envelope to my friend, Laurie, the village postmaster. "This is going to Scotland," I said, just as an older man with grey hair pulled back into a ponytail was leaving. When I left the post office to start my walk back home, he was pulling away in his truck, but leaned out of the window and asked, "Did I hear you mention Scotland?"

I laughed and said, "Yes, but it was Scotland, Ontario!" He turned off the engine and got out. "Ah," he said, "I thought you meant Scotland in the U.K. I was going to say that I have lectured there." So began a conversation about his lectures at Edinburgh University, then our respective spiritual journeys, and he who talked about Head Walkers and Heart Warriors as a description of people who either spend time learning all "about" God or whose hearts and actual lives reflect him and his ways. I knew which one I wanted to be! One of the other things he said was that we all come into the world with a round trip ticket--our flight home is already booked--he said most of us avoid that thought and living accordingly.

Next time I went to the post office, Laurie told me that the man I spoke to only comes into the post office about once a month to pick up his mail. He, like us, has lived in the village for nearly 30 years, but we had never met before--and I have never seen him since. The conversation felt like it was meant to be. As well as confirming my quest to have my faith inform my actual life and inner being, though I didn't know it then, my friend Wendy, was to take her flight home before the end of July. She, though, had had a powerful influence and impact--a life fully lived.

More to follow this week.