The Stepping Stones
FIELD NOTE 02The Stepping Stones
We return again and again to the same places.
Same stones.
Same crossing.
New experience.
As a child, I was determined to cross these stepping stones without help. My mom stayed close, but I wanted to do it on my own. Each step onto a stone was immediately followed by another right beside it.
As a young adult, I crossed confidently, one foot on each stone.
As a young mother, I trusted the strength of my footing as I held the little hands of my children in mine. With every one of my steps onto a stone, their brave bodies took two.
As they got older, they wanted to cross by themselves. I crossed behind them, watching as they found their own footing.
Now, in midlife, I didn’t pay attention to the stones or how many steps it took to cross.
I crossed with curiosity.
I looked into the water at the snails, a frog, and the duckweed.
The stones were the same.
I was not.