
There is something about putting one foot in front of the other that gives me such pleasure. While a smooth, flat path may make the journey easier and quicker, I find it so much more immersive when the ground is rocky, a bit slippery, on a slope or pushed up beneath an overhang. I have to concentrate and place each dusty boot with care, and then trust that I have made the right choice.
This means that I can miss much of what is around me. I need to take the time to pause, look up and around. Look back - so very far back - and see the tiny figures still yet to make it to where I stand. Look ahead, way in the distance, and accept how far I still have to go. With equal parts satisfaction and trepidation, I set off again, one step at a time.
Isn't this so much like life? Especially when we have accumulated so many years and taken so many steps to land right where we are. If you look ahead, what do you see?
Sometimes we race towards what is ahead - a celebration, an adventure, an achievement. Other times we may drag our feet in the dirt if facing uncertainty, illness, or loss. Sometimes the path is obstructed. Sometimes it seems like it doesn't exist.
What do we do if the circumstances of life have us turning on the spot, immobilised by fear, anger, or heartbreak? When it seems like one step in any direction is an impossible task?
Pause. Look up. Look back. See how far you have come. Remember other times that it felt too hard, but you managed. Maybe take a rest for a while, just where you are. Perhaps you wait for someone else to join you, and pause together. You might not feel like moving, but eventually, you must. So, take a deep breath. Turn in the direction of the path ahead. Take one step. Then another. And another. Take your time. There is no hurry.
Eventually, there will be enough steps between where you are and where you were to look back and recall that time when it felt so very hard, but you did it anyway. And here you stand, with another view, and perhaps a different path ahead. Each step changes us, walking us closer to the person we are gradually becoming. Each step creates its own path, perhaps clearing the way for those who follow.
As 2025 unfolds, may each step land you in the direction you wish to go. I'd like you to think of the studio and the time we spend together as your own comfortable seat, a resting place where you can settle in for a while, observe, then step back onto the path, restored and nourished by you own loving attention.
I am very much looking forward to seeing you back in the studio - each of you form an integral part of my own path, and I have missed you.
Much love,
Amanda ❤️ xx
Love the metaphor
Love your very insightful blogs
Love you
So very true.