THE PATH OF COMPASSION
Some things in life are best kept simple, as their clear emotional directness and sincerity strike the heart in a way that no amount of pretentious elaboration from an occasionally lofty writer like me could ever muster.
That being said, I should provide a bit of exposition for the email exchange I've posted below between myself and an old (though younger than me) friend. Years ago, I used to play football with Toby on Rodborough Common, which I previously wrote about in my piece Common People (May 29, 2024).
Recently reunited over coffee, we got to talking about the old days—where our life paths had diverged and how they had now brought us briefly back together. The subject of Buddhism also found its way into our conversation, and naturally, I couldn't help but bore my friend with talk of my father's devotion to his Mahayana path and his solemn commitment to honouring the bodhisattva vow.
And as it happened, Toby (having just returned from Slovakia where his girlfriend lives) told me about his latest plan to complete the Offa's Dyke Walk, a historic long-distance hiking trail derived from Offa’s Dyke—a massive earthwork built in the 8th century by King Offa of Mercia to mark the border between England and Wales.
Starting in Chepstow in the south of the country and ending in Prestatyn in the north, the hike covers a total distance of 177 miles (285 km) and passes through iconic ancient landmarks such as the Black Mountains, the River Wye Valley, and the Clwydian Range—not to mention numerous historic castles.
The way he described it, I began to imagine a scene straight out of The Lord of the Rings, as if lifted from the pages of Tolkien. I felt positively lazy as I leaned back in my chair with my cup of coffee, thinking about how much I perpetually resemble Bilbo Baggins in pre-adventure stasis before Gandalf and the dwarves come knocking at his door. Peter Jackson certainly wouldn't be able to make much of a movie from this version of the Hobbit.
Would it take the threat of Smaug the Dragon to get me to attempt something like what Toby had described? Probably—but even then, I’m not so sure I wouldn’t fold myself up like a crêpe in my duvet and hide from the perils of the natural world regardless.
Note for readers. I should just mention that the word mate is used excessively in the email exchanges below. It’s a quirk of modern hobbits to correspond this way, so please forgive the overuse.
Saturday 8th February
Hi Toby,
Great to see you the other day. Amazing to hear of all your adventures, geographical and spiritual. Hope to keep in touch. As promised, here are links to Dad related pieces I mentioned.
Catch up soon!
Max
Sunday, 9th February
Hi Max!
It was really great to see you too and felt like time hasn’t changed the friendship we have.I was very sorry to hear about your dad. Like I said, he was such a lovely man, a huge part of Stroud and someone I personally always really enjoyed talking football with. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to dedicate the rest of my 177 mile hike when I do the final 50 miles in March, to him. And as is the custom after hiking the Offa’s Dyke I’ll throw my shoes into the sea (an old man told me who’s done the hike) and also chant him a prayer when I get there. Would really be great to meet up again soon and thank you for sending me the related pieces - I’ll definitely read them.
Speak soon mate and all the best,
Toby
Hey Toby,
So great to catch up with you. I was moved to hear you talk about your Buddhist journey so far and I know dad would have been so heartened to know of it too. As for your dedicating the rest of your hike in honour of him I can only say I'm profoundly touched by this gesture (I know my family will be too). As way of thanks we would like to offer you some books from his library to take with you on your spiritual path (I will pass them onto you when I see you next). I'm around before you head off so if you fancy a catch up before let me know. Otherwise, would love to cook you a meal on your return (post hike). Or both! Either way, I'm flexible. Agreed about our friendship. Nothing ever changes with us. Banter always top notch!
Talk soon!
Max
Wednesday, February 12th
Hi Max,
That's so kind of you, and I'd be honoured to receive them; thank you. I suspect the hike will be a cold one in March, but I think the hardship of the journey is part of it. I'm usually free on Wednesdays, which is when we met last week, but maybe I'll get the walk done first and then we could meet when I return at the end of March time? My mission is to document the walk and get some good photos taken as well, so I'll have some things to share! I look forward to meeting up again around that time at the end of March if it's alright with you? Keep in touch.
All the best for now pal! And wishing you the best of best
Toby
Hey mate.
End of March sounds good. I’ll be sending good vibes your way for the final stage of your trek.
Keep me posted.
Max
Thanks mate! I will :)
Look forward to catching up with you again in March
Toby
Thursday, 13th March
Hi Max!
I’m off on the hike today; a bit chilly but should survive! I will see you on the other side when I’m done. Like I said, I have your father in mind while I’m doing this and will send him a heartfelt Buddhist prayer once I reach the final destination at Prestatyn on the Welsh coast. He is sadly missed.
Take care for now mate.
Many great wishes,
Toby
Hi Toby!
Will be thinking of you my friend. Sending positive vibes your way for your journey. Deeply touched that you'll be dedicating the last stretch of your epic hike to the memory of Dad. Much love!
See you on your return!
Max
Saturday, 29th March
Hi Max
Hope you’re doing well mate. I completed the walk, but I’m going to be honest it was a tough ending. My bag was way too big and heavy and it was very cold a lot of the time (something like minus 2 one night), but at my lowest morale I did actually push through in the honor and memory of your dad. It was a silent victory that no-one will see or hear or know about and finished in an unglamorous north welsh town at sea’s edge, but in my heart it is something I felt I needed to do to prove something to myself and I’ve honestly grown from the experience. At many times on the way I felt like turning back home and a few people also even voiced their doubts I could do it.But not only that, it was the good people I met on the way, who pushed me onwards too or even helped me when I was genuinely at my limit. In a way, meeting you again was part of that journey as well. One of my goals was also my determination to be open to all communication - some people I met I liked, some I didn’t, but I tried to be accepting to all. The walk has given me an increased appreciation for nature, with it’s beauty and it’s strength, and somehow I feel closer to its elements, as if I’ve come alive again and I feel less fear of things, and more respectful of its awesomeness. Although the years roll by I determine to complete more challenges like this, but I hope and pray more that every single one of us can find some peace and happiness in this crazy world.Well, this I think is maybe what your wonderful dad may have wanted too, but I can’t say for sure of course. In my heart I could feel he was such a kind man, full of positive humour. I tried to throw my onyx necklace into the ocean when I got to the salt waters edge. Unfortunately, It truly was the most ridiculous throw I’ve ever made and it actually nearly did full circle and ended up back in my hand! Anyway, instead it ended up right stuck in the mud. I hope the tide took it eventually, but there’s a message included; that as human beings we can take things too seriously and nature doesn’t care; it just is. This moment reminded me to take things easier, even though we need to struggle to achieve our goals, which we must do for ourselves and others. At this point I began to laugh and I turned for home.I hope and pray your dad finds peace and great joy in his next life, this is the message I sent out silently and like scattering leaves in the swirling wind, whether it means anything or not. I hope that eventually he finds what he was searching for in future lives (if we follow what the Buddhists believe); perhaps it is no thing. Who can say; but What a life!
All the best mate; will be lovely to meet for coffee again or a bite to eat and nice chat.
Over and out for now.
Best,
Toby
Hi Toby,
Great to hear from you. Your email was first thing I read when I woke up this morning. It moved me deeply. I'm going to respond in more depth in next few days with a longer email. Just wanted you to know I received both the email and the photos.
Much love,
Max
Hi Max,
Awesome. I'm happy to hear you received both emails. I hadn't written to you as soon as I wanted, but I just got inspired waking up from a dream early this morning and the words just finally came out! For a while it felt strange achieving my objective and I didn't know how to feel or what to say.I look forward to hearing from you with a longer response 😄
All the best for now mate,
Toby x
Tuesday, 1st April
Hi Toby,
Well, it's taken me longer than usual to get back to you with a significant and deserving response to your post-hike return email. Perhaps because I sensed that you had been through a trial (and definitely a trail) of sorts and didn’t want to reply in a way that seemed trite or insufficiently considered or ill thought through.
I should tell you that I woke up on Saturday morning with sunlight streaming through my office window, across the landing, and into my bedroom in a magically Spielbergian way. Around this same time, I peered at my emails through one semi-encrusted eye and read your message. Somehow, the combination of the sunshine and the intention of your words created a quasi-spiritual feeling in me—a sense that something I had recently forgotten had been returned to me.
Human compassion.
Maybe that sounds a little grandiose, but the gesture you committed to making on behalf of my late father—and, in doing so, honouring his memory—touched me deeply. The cosmic hilarity of your necklace getting stuck in the mud also seemed to speak to something quintessential about my father’s comic sensibility: never taking yourself too seriously and never assuming that reality is exactly as it appears. Your interpretation of what it symbolised seemed to align with how he would have seen the same situation, creating a sort of symbiosis between his journey and yours.
Okay, I’m getting a little lofty here.
On a more down-to-earth note, your summary of the final stage of your journey brought to mind a local tragedy I heard about recently. A close friend of my nephew had sadly passed away the night after returning from a camping trip with his mates. My young nephew has had to process an intense experience of loss—something that should ideally be alien to someone his age. Reading a social media post in which he reflected on the bittersweet honour of sharing his friend’s last trip and making their final memories together, I couldn’t help but find it profoundly moving. It was a stark reminder of the fleeting preciousness of life on this earth.
Thinking of your solitary journey to complete the epic Offa’s Dyke walk, and reflecting on your observations about the people who helped you (and some who didn’t), I felt a similar emotion—gratitude that you managed to accomplish what you set out to do and that you returned safe, and enriched from the experience.
Though it seems we can all set off on similar paths when we embark like Bilbo Baggins on adventures (small and large), where they lead and what happens to us on our journeys vary so much that surely we can only conclude that it is our own karma or destiny that will determine the outcome at the end of it all. For some it ends in tragedy, for others in resolution.
My father often used to say that so many spiritual seekers get stuck at base camp when there is an entire summit to reach on top of the mountain. I can't say for sure how far from base camp you've got so far, but something tells me your compassion has already given you a head start from many of us less enlightened.
Much love,
Max xxx