I was originally going to begin this post with some clever poetic phrase about the marvel of our feet and their ability to take us to so many delightful places, but then, I couldn't help but get distracted by the hilarity of how many shoes I brought on this week-long trip. (And the above pictures only show 3 of the 5 pairs I brought along.) Women are funny; each occasion calls for a totally different foot-attire.
Now back to my first thought.
It truly is a wonder, all the places our feet fall. Think about it. From the day you took your first step to where you are right now. Your feet have brought you all this way. Back and forth down the halls of your alma mater, into all those dreadful high school classes. Onto the plane that took you out of the country for the first time. Along the ridged edges of the Grand Canyon. All the way down the aisle to kiss your one true love. Your feet did it all.
On this last trip, I found myself looking down at my feet quite often. I observed the things on the floor beneath me, feeling a new and lovely sense of quiet curiosity. Pinecones, puppies, snow, and the like. Lifting my eyes the picture got broader, coming together in a lovely array of scattered scenes. Trees, sunlight, mountains, friends.
Trips are the best, but at times can feel a tad overwhelming for me. I tend to get so concerned with making the most of our time that my racing thoughts take away from the moment by moment experiences. Are we seeing everything we hoped to see? Am I getting the best photographs? Should we have picked a different campsite? Nonetheless, the trip feels full in the end, and my heart is overjoyed.
Later on I'll look back on all the pictures from that trip. My heart will jump and I'll feel a new excitement about the scenes. There is an air of light-heartedness that wasn't there in the instant I took the picture. Sometimes I catch myself enjoying those moments now more than I did then.
Pictures don't retain the worries I was feeling or the hurry we were in. They capture one single image from one single point in time. But, pictures, are one dimensional. You can't look around them. You can't look outside of them, or beyond them. You can't look down from them and see where your feet stood in that very moment.
So the question that crossed my mind this time round was, "Can you throw out your worries, your expectations, your timeframe, and look up, down, in, and all around you?" This moment is beautiful. It is enough. Enjoy everything about now. Enjoy it all you can.
And today as I search through the looking glass of where we once were, I can confidently claim that the pictures we bring back are wonderful, but I will never again let them steal the glory of the now.
Your feet fall on so many different places. Take it all in. Feel fortunate to find your way in them.