Guest Post: Impressions: Susan’s Lists

At the River Test near Kings Somborne

My favorite parts of my time in England:
 - The Tallis Scholars concert in Salisbury Cathedral: the music was so beautiful I was in tears at points in the first few pieces
 - The tower tour at Salisbury Cathedral: seeing “behind the scenes” and the very nice view from the top of the tower
 - Viewing the Magna Carta, the best-preserved of 4 remaining copies of the original version
 - Hearing the organ at the Evensong service in Salisbury Cathedral
 - Singing together with Ken and Sara in the churches where we stopped in along the way
 - Crossing the River Test on the way to Kings Somborne
 - Receiving the Wayfarer’s Dole in Winchester and the coincident sunshine after the rain while we ate lunch
 - The walk along the many channels of the River Itchen in and around Winchester
 - Evensong in Winchester Cathedral: the choir of men and boys sang beautifully
 - Visiting the home of Jane Austen and learning more about her family
 - Seeing parts of the British Museum in London before my flight back home
 - Sampling British food: this might perhaps have more to do with the fact that I wasn’t having to prepare it than with the food itself, although I found it quite tasty
 - Meeting many friendly people: many wanted to know where we had walked from and where we were heading
 - Spending time with Ken and Sara

Life as a journey is a truly apt metaphor. No matter how much you plan, there will be surprises. Backtracking can be discouraging but is sometimes necessary. With each step you draw closer to your destination. Recapturing an attitude of thanksgiving helps to get through the hard bits. A journey will be accompanied by pain, but also by delight.

I noticed in reading Ken and Sara’s blog entries for the days I walked with them, that my pain was mentioned quite frequently. I’d have to go back and re-read the entries to make sure, but in each of the walking day entries, when I was mentioned so was my pain. My thoughts on the subject:
 - The pain is not so much from blisters or leg muscle pain (Tylenol helps keep that type of pain at a mostly ignorable level), but a soreness of the bottom of the feet: foot pads not used to the relentless pounding of a multi-mile march.
 - There is not enough time in “real life” to train your feet past the foot pad pain, although if I had had even one long session walking with a full pack, it probably would have given me something of a head start.
- Even in the few days I walked with them, the amount of time it took to reach the painful feet stage lengthened, which was encouraging. Ken and Sara had known that I would probably just get to the point of less painful feet, and then my time with them would be finished.

The softness of walking surfaces in order from hard to soft (I rearranged this list several times):
 o Paved roads or sidewalks (pavements as they are called there)
 o Pea gravel on pavement
 o Hard-packed dirt
 o Gravel (the larger the gravel the harder on the feet, since larger rocks poke your feet through the soles of the boots)
 o Grass (longer grass “grabs” at the treads of boots, however, and walking through very long grass is like wading through water, according to Sara)
 o Well-traveled forest path
 o And my favorite, forest path with tree litter (although lots of sticks adds to the risk of slipping)

Can you tell that I thought a lot about all of that as we walked? I tried to find the softest available surface with each step early on in the day to save my feet for later that day. (As in a journey, in one sense our lives are made up of many small choices that end up characterizing the whole.)

Of course, large decisions have a huge impact on a journey. Deciding which towns and villages to visit on the way, and where to stay in them can impact how you feel about the whole trip. I was not responsible for those choices on this walk, but was thankful that Ken had planned our route so well.

I think that Ken and Sara have mentioned elsewhere that they invited me to come with them because they thought it was appropriate, since my kidney had made Ken’s renewed health possible. When people tell me how wonderful I am for donating my kidney to my brother, I attempt to express to them what an immense privilege it was to have given it. If I had decided (although I can’t imagine this) not to give my kidney to Ken, one result would have been that I would not have had the joy of joining them for a part of their pilgrimage of thanksgiving (disregarding the cascading impact that choice would have had on Ken and Sara and so many others).

The pain of my gift was so much less than the many blessings I have received because of it. And that was true of my short journey with them in England as well. I am so very thankful to have joined them!