“A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step.
- Lau Tzu
I listened carefully as he described his little girl’s first steps. He encouraged her to keep her eyes on him, and only when she didn’t, did she stumble. Only when she lost her focus, when she became too conscious of the steps she was taking, did she fall.
I was afraid he was going to declare some parental primacy, that without his loving presence, his little girl wouldn’t be able to make her way. But to my surprise, he understood her first steps more deeply as a wisdom that effects us all.
He stared off, offering slowly, “She made me realize that when I stop looking for a sense of truth, I stumble. When I lose my focus on what really matters, I fall.”
This small story has stayed with me. For aren’t we forever taking first steps, again and again? Don’t we uncover a mystery of strength by looking out before us and bringing into focus a deeper sense of truth?
Isn’t balance, in reality, the ability to step quite naturally, like this little girl, without too much thought, into everything larger than our fear?
- Mark Nepo, “The Book of Awakening”
Dear Wise Women,
Last week we contemplated the many ways of returning. We moved past an intellectual understanding and into an embodiment of these words, “the spiritual path is not one of attainment, but of return.”
Together, we felt into the sensation of returning to our centers - and the collective energy of our return was palpable. What was also palpable was our shared vulnerability.
As we shared our stories and the nuances of our (apparently) different paths, one thing became crystal clear, it takes courage to return to the center and it takes even more courage to emerge from it. To begin anew, to take one single step onto a new path can feel very wobbly - it can feel like learning to walk again!
Serendipitously, during our Monday evening circle, wise woman Laurie shared the following passages from Mark Nepo, which echoed and reinforced this message.
I don't personally believe in an arrived state of enlightenment. I feel that being human is a constant practice of return. We have moments of clarity, and then we're confused. We have incredibly sensitive periods of being awake, and then we're numb. Being human is a very universal and a very personal practice of learning how to return when we can't get access to what we know.
For being human, we remember and forget. We stray and return, fall down and get up, and cling and let go, again and again. But it is this straying and returning that makes life interesting, this clinging and letting go - damned as it is - that exercises the heart.
And so, dear wise women, let us continue our walk together…
walking down a path with no end
a path that appears to circle back
again and again
but in truth
is always guiding us back home
returning us to our centers…
if only we have the courage to keep stepping.
My daughter Ayla taking her (much anticipated) first steps while vacationing in France. When Ayla was four months old, our doctor told us that she was developmentally delayed and that she may have neurological damage. The tailspin of fear that ensued was both unnecessary and harmful. Fortunately, the doctor was wrong and she was perfectly fine…she just had her own timeline. Ayla, it seems, is in my life to teach me how to choose love over fear. She continues to be my greatest teacher.
Yes, you fell down.
I feel for you, for I have
fallen many times.
But life is this repeating journey
from sleep to wakefulness,
from blindness to sight,
from fear to love.
No matter how many times
we fall, we are just beginning.
- Excerpt from “Anthem” by Mark Nepo