Rethinking Those Who Wander

This weekend we had the opportunity to visit our nation's capital, Washington D.C. What an incredible trip! We saw the Washington Monument, a memorial to George Washington, the first president of the United States. The monument style, known as an obelisk, goes back to the ancient world. To the Egyptians, it represented the intimate and mystical union between the Earth (Geb) and Sky (Nut). Later, the Freemasons adoped the symbol for their own use. It can still be seen marking Masonic tombs around the world.

Yesterday, however, we took somewhat of a detour. We traveled by ferry to the town of Alexandria, Virginia, a town that was surveyed by the then seventeen year old George Washington. There were quaint, little, shops by the dozen scattered throughout the town. Tourism had obviously become quite a boon for the local community.

As we walked, I noticed a street performer. Having just visited Washington, D.C., seeing a street performer was not all that unusual. My initial thought was, wow, what a hard way to make just a little bit of money. Another hard luck case. However, as I looked at this man's face, it seemed different. He played his guitar with a passion, that caused me to stop in my tracks. The joy that radiated from his face was contagious. He looked right at me and smiled. I couldn't help but smile back. He played a song I remembered from my childhood, from the band "America." He sang powerfully, "O, Oz never did give nothing to the Tin Man, that he didn't, didn't already have."

It made me think... What did Oz give to the Tin Man that he already had? Oh that's right...his heart. I think this man of the street gave me a little bit of my heart back yesterday. As I turned to leave, I looked back once more. I saw a sticker on his guitar case that read,

"Not all who wander are lost."

How true.