Eyes on Each Step

The Run

Last Sunday I went for a run, only my second in years.

I started running at 14, and for most of my life it was my happy place. Then sports injuries took it away. When I started again, I didn't know how far I could go, or whether my injured knee would hold up.

Partway through, I noticed something. When I looked ahead at the point I wanted to reach, I felt tired. It seemed too far, and I stopped trusting that I could get there.

When I looked down at the ground just in front of my feet, I felt more energy, more hope, and more able.

The road was the same. My knee was the same. Only where I was looking had changed.

Where We Put Our Attention

Life works the same way.

When the mind lives in the future, every goal feels too far away. When it lives in the past, we carry old injuries and old fears into every step. Both drain our energy, and neither is where our feet are.

Buddhism calls the alternative mindfulness, or sati: full attention on what is happening now. This breath. This step. Not because the future doesn't matter, but because the present is the only place where we can act.

I still knew where I was going. But the goal gave me direction, not strength. The strength came from each step.

And looking down took less effort, not more. I didn't have to force myself to be present. I just stopped straining toward the distance, and the moment was already there.

Presence Begins with Acceptance

Staying present also requires accepting what is.

It's hard to be present with a moment we're resisting. If part of us is rejecting this moment, wishing our body, our past, or other people were different, we aren't present. We're at war with reality.

The deepest acceptance is of ourselves, unconditionally: the injured knee, the mistakes, the slower pace, the version of us that isn't where we thought we'd be by now. The same goes for other people and for our circumstances.

Buddhism calls this equanimity, or upekkha: meeting whatever arises without grasping at it or pushing it away. Acceptance isn't giving up. It's the ground we stand on to take each step.

To be clear, the acceptance I'm talking about happens inside us. It means not fighting reality in our minds: not denying what happened, not judging ourselves for what we feel. It is not approval, and it is not tolerating what harms us. If someone is hurting you, accepting what is means seeing it clearly, without excuses or denial, so you can protect yourself and choose what to do.

On my run, if I had judged my body for not being what it used to be, I would have stopped. Instead, I accepted the body I have today, and it kept going.

I've come to believe that even the hard things can become teachers, if we meet them without resistance.

Each Step

Know where you want to go, but don't stare at the finish line. Look at the ground in front of you, accept where you are, and take the step you can take today. Keep your focus on each step, one step at a time, and you'll go further than you ever thought you could.

You don't have to see the whole road. You only have to take the step in front of you.

A Moment to Reflect

Take a few quiet minutes with these questions. You might write your answers down, or simply sit with them on your next walk or run.

• Where in your life are you staring at the finish line instead of the ground beneath your feet?

• What would change if you focused only on the step you can take today?

• Which part of yourself, your body, or your past are you still resisting?

• What would it feel like to accept that part, without needing to approve of it or fix it right now?

• What is one small step you can take this week, just one?

  
  

There are no right answers. Noticing is already a step.

If you'd like support along the way, I'd love to hear from you. Reach out anytime.