I finished reading March, by Geraldine Brooks, this week. It's the story of Mr March, the other half of the story in Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott. For most of the novel, he was a Captain Chaplain in the Union army, working to ease the suffering of wounded soldiers and to educate and improve the conditions for the liberated slaves. Like all wars, that was not a enjoyable time or situation in which to be.

Near the end of the novel he was a broken man in a military hospital who has done what he could, but feels he has failed, has so much many to do before he will feel worthy as a person, but everyone but him sees that he cannot go back to the path he was on. Basically that he can't save the world at his age and in his health condition, but his family needs him and he can make a difference in their lives and their community.

One of the characters, Grace, tells him, "I simply ask you to see that there is only one thing to do when we fall, and that is to get up, and go on with the life that is set in front of us, and try to do the good of which our hands are capable for the people who come in our way. That, at least has been my path."

I have been thinking about that and perhaps that's why the title of this blog, but "a path" is something that we all do.

I mentioned Shorinji Kempo in an earlier post, because I have started learning that. As part of the class, we speak an oath. One of the lines is "To give ourselves to contributing to the Way", because the practice is part of a path.