On some evening walks I take there is this little thing I do that has some profound effect.
What I do is walk in a straight line on a path I know, in the dark, with my eyes closed. It’s quite disorienting at first.
I worry about drifting to one side of the path or running into something, even when I know there is nothing in front of me. I worry about where I’m trying to go. I worry about how far I am from my goal. I can get all mixed up in my own head. Paralysed by fear.
But with practice what I’m really doing is learning to take one step after the other. I’m learning to keep walking. One step at a time. At a steady pace. Not too fast. Cautious but continuous. I learn to be in the present moment. To trust that if I just keep moving forward I will eventually get to where I want to go. How far I have to go becomes irrelevant. It’s the process of taking one step after another that is important. Each time I get a little closer to my goal.
If I wander off to one side I feel the grass border. Then I adjust. And I keep walking.
Sometimes I want to look ahead in my imagination, but that only distracts me from the real task: putting one foot in front of the other without stopping.
To get to the ultimate goal I have to keep walking. Worrying or imagining the future leads me nowhere, it just makes me forget where I am right now. Looking at past steps doesn’t help me get to where I want. I just have to keep putting on foot in front of the other.
On the path I take there are a couple light sources. While I have my eyes closed I can still see variations in luminosity through my eye-lids. When I’m in the dark everything is okay. When I’m in the light everything is okay. But when I transition from one to the other, my mind gets agitated and fear arises. A shift from light to dark creates an instinctive reflex of wanting to stop. Usually if it gets darker it means there is an obstacle in the way. But in this instance I know there is none. So I learn to push through that fear and discomfort. The opposite is also true. When I’m going from the known darkness to a different uncertain light I feel fear, get uncomfortable, and push through it. One step after an other.
This practice forces me to be in the present moment and fully aware of my body and surrounding. I must relax and trust in my ability to adapt to unforeseen obstacles or events. I learn to just keep stepping.
In a way it resembles life. You’re going somewhere you can’t see. You constantly have to adjust your course when you hit the grass. You have to go through moments of lightness and darkness, each one temporary. And through it all, you have to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Relax and keep taking the next step. Never dwelling on past steps or looking too far ahead. And trusting that you will eventually get to where you want to go.
Join me in making those small consistent steps. Put one foot in front of the other. Then repeat.