Following a fresh dump of snow, I noticed unusual tracks in our front yard. Bigger than hoof prints. Oddest shape for any human shoes I’ve ever seen. They were in a straight line with no clear indication which end was the start and which was the finish.
There’s something fascinating about making tracks in fresh snow. You feel like an explorer out forging the first path through the recent downfall. As children we were like adventurers, step by step, conquering what felt like new territory.
I was asked by someone this week why we lose our childlike wonder at freshly fallen snow. It was a good question. Adults encounter a dump of snow and it is less about forts, making tracks and playing, and all about shovelling, scraping and hauling.
As children new snow represented endless possibilities, new frontiers and boundless fun, limited only by how cold we got or how snow-encrusted our mittens became. As adults that new snow represents responsibilities, a need for caution, and knowing our plans could be in jeopardy.
While being an adult requires the need to make prudent decisions, I can’t help but think about that question of why we lose our childlike wonder and the adventurous spirit of being the first to put footprints in the untouched canvas. Equally fun was to walk where someone else had just been and see if we could match their stride. It was doable if another child had gotten there before us, but if it was an adult we had to be pretty flexible and really reach to try and duplicate their steps.
Successful dancer and businessman Arthur Murray knew all about the value in trying to match footprints. One hundred years ago he started a mail order business to teach people to dance. His customers received booklets that taught them dance steps by following a sequence of left and right footprints linked by arrows.
There are a lot of things we can learn by imitating the steps of others, but at some point we need to take a look at those footprints and realize they are fleeting. Footprints disappear rather quickly as the sun melts the snow or as an additional cascade of flakes re-fills the imprints we recently put there. They simply can’t withstand what nature does so easily to erase their presence, and then freshen that canvas for the next person that comes along. While it may be sad that our footprints are so temporary, it’s good to remember that the steps themselves are not as easily lost.
Our footprints quickly and silently disappear…as if they were never there. Yet unseen and unnoticed amidst the prints that are easily lost are the footsteps that endure. They are the steps that have carved the paths, blazed the trails and set the course. They are harder to see because they aren’t about what’s left behind but instead are the marks of keeping things moving in front of us. Footsteps are about finding your place and making the trail one that is uniquely you.
But it all starts with footprints—making those first moves and looking to see the impression we can make. With childlike wonder we can marvel at the path we have forged. But that is only a starting point. As adults we may be more accustomed to look for the work rather than the wonder, but it’s also where we have opportunity to make an impact by ensuring we are putting down footsteps that matter. Childlike wonder is now adult wisdom that can combine the excitement of adventurous new steps with thought-filled movement and the goal of putting in place something meaningful.
We might start by trying to match the steps of others, but before long we will want to do a dance that is all our own. Footsteps are about the words, actions and decisions that reflect our character, our beliefs, our attitude, and the importance of our family, faith, work, community, doing for those around us, and all that matters most. Our footsteps provide the markings for others to follow--not to duplicate--but to emulate. Others may see our footprints, but they will recognize and respond to our footsteps. Those are the ones that will be remembered. That’s my outlook.
