Whose footsteps are you following?
loosing ground, knowing yourself, the view from camp
Salt licked boots sink into coarse sand as I march across the beach, weaving a path up and down the shore line, chasing Corey’s footsteps. Today will be mostly spent hiking the shoreline, a breeze in comparison to long ladders and muddy paths.
I can’t help but notice with every step the proverbial two steps forward one step back, shrunk down to inches lost. I see his tracks below and again angle to follow, pebbles popping over the top of my hiker to land wedged between boot and sock. This continues for a while, until I admit to myself, the path I am on is likely the path that works best for me. Chasing his long strides up and down the sand is only making me think that he knows some secret of least resistance I have yet to discover. All the while making me huff up the slope then slide back down as I follow his trail. But I know. His sore knee likely is bothering him. He is also chasing a little relief by zigzagging from forest to water, back and forth.
I finally decide I am being ridiculous. I set my eyes on the horizon, doing my best to ignore his path. He doesn’t know an easier path, he knows no secret trail, and I let go of that idea. My path may convince someone behind me that perhaps I also know some secret easy version of this pebbly slippery hike, they will never know I also was dealing with a sore ankle, trying to find firm ground.
This short reflection was inspired by day four of hiking the West Coast Trail. I distinctly remember chuckling that much like following someone’s trail on the beach, leading a creative life often feels like others know some secret you do not. That perhaps if you follow their lead, you also may finally reach [insert the goal]. And don’t get me wrong, I am grateful for all the people willing to share what they have learned. But at some point we need to decide what is worth following and what is worth ignoring. At some point investing in knowing oneself will surpass any advice an expert can give.
It is human to imagine that all I have to do is put my foot where their foot was. If only it were that easy. What can feel tougher, and lonelier, is to pick your own path, know your needs, know your abilities, and stick with it.
The View from Camp
Day four had us camping on the beach, where we shared a fire with our neighbours and chatted about books we love while boiling water for dinner. The sunset was long and stunning—giving us plenty of time to explore the seawall that protects camp. Below are images taken that evening.
You can also find me here:
Photo licensing through stills
Hey, you made it to the end! I have a little secret for you: we moved last weekend. We really didn’t plan to move, but after a year of looking into other people’s bedrooms across the courtyard we were open to change. So when a south-facing unit opened up with a view of trees—we snapped it up.
We were told it was exactly like our current unit, so we moved in thinking everything would fit. It didn’t. So I spent half a day doing an emergency run to IKEA, just so we could unpack our lives. The pantry is half the size we expected; the whole unit is off by a foot in strange places. I keep reaching for things where I think they should be, and they’re not. Doors open opposite directions, and switches have migrated. The office is a mess still, and I am pretending not to see it while I write. It’s reminded me how much space impacts our minds, and our creativity.
Gorgeous sunset and shots. Hope you settle in well in good time to your new place!