“Watch your step” would be a useful slogan for me
these days. I especially like the word “watch”, because it suggests the kind of completely
committed awareness I want to foster in myself – an awareness that sometimes,
sadly, seems absent in me for hours and days at a time. I want to be constantly on the
alert, attentive as much as possible to the nuances of this peculiar and
beguiling life I’m living. I want to watch what’s happening as carefully as a
sharp-eyed sailor watches from the deck. This is a demanding mission for me,
since an almost youthful heedlessness still, at 71, seems more prevalent in me than
awareness. I still sometimes see in myself the rash impetuosity of my teenage
years. I seem to come panting into a new day, dash through it, and then rush
into sleep at the end, hoping that a few hours rest will help me race even
faster tomorrow. It’s a swift and hassled world we live in, hardly the kind of
environment to encourage “watching your step”, but I want to give it a good try.
Instead of simply glancing at the gifts spring is giving us along the roads
these days, I want to occasionally stop and study them; instead of a quick
look, I want a long look; instead of just shooting past the songs of birds
on my bicycle, I want to pause and truly listen, to sometimes let the bike come to a
silent stop among their brave new songs.
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