Leaping in Baby Steps

Many times, we tend to overlook small, seemingly insignificant things that pass our way. Subtle gestures of friends and strangers that can communicate so much, if only we were aware of them. Tiny little flowers hiding in the shadow of a larger plant. Delicate grace-notes in a piano concerto. Great ideas coming from the shy person. So many of us barrel headlong through life with a set agenda, preconceived ideas, and a big goal in mind, that these things get lost and we move on without them, having no idea of what we may have missed. And does it matter? Perhaps not in the big picture. After all, we have work to be done, people to take care of, and responsibilities to fulfill. So, why do we even need to pay attention to these things? The answer, if such a term can even be used, is that sometimes the smallest step in the right direction, the unexpected kind words, the unsolicited help with a rough situation, can end up being one of the most significant actions that help us to see our way through, and can affect the rest of our life in ways we never expected.

In trying to control the things I can control in my life, and letting the rest go, there is, of course, confusion about what is what and which is which. Some things I think I am able to handle, I find are out of my control, and I find others, which seemed nearly insurmountable, to be much easier to navigate. Case in point: I tend of have ‘conversations’ and ‘arguments’ with myself, reliving old confrontations, or preparing for situations I may need to face sooner than later. Of course, rehashing talks that have past adds nothing to them or to my knowledge of how I might have better dealt with that occasion. Reaching into the future of yet-to-be spoken words can, indeed, allow us to see what counterpoints we may face and then be ready to deal with that when and if it comes up. In both cases, however, I find myself stressed-out, and angry—meaning fearful—about something I cannot control. Recently, I decided to let go of these things, and it has not been easy. The old conversation starts in my mind, and I find myself right there again, before realizing what I’m doing, and reminding myself, ‘Let it go.’ And I may need to remind myself again, before telling myself to breathe deeply several times and let go. At first, this seemed a ridiculous exercise, and I contemplated abandoning it. It, and the affect it was having seemed insignificant and not worth the effort. I did, however, decide it needed to be done, however my ego was feeling about the so-called results I experience. So I kept going. And the next situation that popped up made me feel silly. As did the one after that. To my surprise, however, as I continued to breathe deeply, telling myself to let go, and so on, I reached a point, months after I began this, when I realized I was just letting it go, and not letting the situation affect me personally or how I felt. The ego in the situation had vanished, and I realized that so many of these things I faced were not, indeed, about me, and there was no reason I needed to let them bother me. The situations, at work or elsewhere, were simply bumps in the road, to be navigated as best I could at the moment, and then forgotten.

Baby Steps. We take them as children learning to walk because we are developing and growing and our bodies are teaching us how to do this, slowly and carefully, because we are not physically ready to handle actually walking without this. The very small steps we are capable of taking are precisely what helps us to grow stronger and stronger, until we begin to walk on our own. Somehow, though, as adults we don’t often give ourselves the benefit of this subtle way of learning, thinking we need to do it all and know it all without ever taking the time to learn to fall, to learn to be helped by others, and to revel in the baby steps themselves. And that’s okay, too. But it’s also okay to spot the baby rabbit in the shadows, to hear a child singing joyfully to themselves, and to let ourselves be fully human…faults and all, and to be okay with that.

Sacred Cows

photo: D. Barr

‘If you realize that all things change, there is nothing you will try to hold on to.’

—Lao Tzu                       

We all have ‘sacred cows,’ those items, actions, or ideas that are unassailable, untouchable, that we associate with the good things in our lives. They may give us structure, and help us make decisions. While religiously associated with Hinduism and Buddhism, secularly, the term has come to signify things in our lives that not only cannot be touched, but that cannot be changed in any way. Churches find it difficult to update their Prayer Books, because so many know the current edition, and see the change as nearly blasphemous. It is not, of course, but usually a needed change to better reflect our society, as opposed to the world for which it was written twenty-five, fifty, or two-hundred years ago. At a personal level, we develop habits that become automatic behaviors and allow us to do somewhat mundane things, like preparing the morning coffee, or brushing our teeth, without having to put a lot of thought into them, freeing our minds for other things.

Change…can be scary. When change is required, we slow down considerably, trying to remember the new method, the new words, the new steps to accomplish something we’d come to take for granted. And, like learning anything new or complicated, it can be frustrating. A running coach trying to improve an athlete’s stride to make it more efficient, faster, and less tiring, faces difficult days, as the runner attempts to internalize the coach’s advice to become better. It. Is. Difficult. And it is frustrating to both parties, as our prior knowledge and experience with a particular activity has informed our intelligence and we feel more comfortable with the ‘old way.’ It is when we are presented with new possibilities, however, difficult as they may be to conceive at first, that allows us to thrive, and to do things we never thought possible.

The opportunity to see and experience things from a different perspective presents us a new way to navigate our lives. The old church prayers may still mean a lot to us, but words of the new Prayer Book may help us to see things in a novel way, leading us to other thoughts that enhance our understanding of what we already know, and letting us build our knowledge to help others understand as well. The slight changes the running coach proposed may take stress off our legs, or other groups of muscles we use when running, leading to a smoother, easier stride, a faster pace, and less soreness afterward, leaving the runner able to better recover from her training sessions, and to then prepare for the next session or competition. Taken in tiny bites, tiny steps, the path to changing our minds, our thoughts, our habits, becomes easier, and eliminates much of the fear of change we have. Mastering each small step, and taking the time we need to do so, allows us to build confidence in the process, and the ultimate change becomes less scary and more desirable.

When we open ourselves to new possibilities, uncomfortable or unexpected as they may be, our ‘sacred cows’ can calmly reside within our hearts and thoughts. When we learn new things, and they begin to become a part of our thoughts, we can begin to see how our sacred cows helped pave the way to new understanding. It is being open to the unexpected and the novel that allows us to grow, to understand, and to better recognize how we can come together to create a world that needs this kind of unity to exist.