One Foot, then the Other

If there’s one thing I’ve lacked consistently in my short twenty-two years of life, it’s grace. At least, grace as in the ability to navigate across even smooth surfaces without stumbling. Despite two mother-mandated years in ballet and three more in tap or jazz dance classes, my feet have an uncanny ability to find even the smallest flaw in a surface to trip over. This tendency of mine enhances my generally accident-prone existence.

Most of these scraped knees could be avoided if I would only examine the ground I’m walking on. But unless I’m walking on ice or through mud, I generally pay more attention to what’s in front of my face than what is beneath my feet. All the teen magazines and job interview tips say this is a good thing, that it gives off an air of confidence. However, the many scars on my knees say otherwise. I think I would fall much less if I simply watched where I put my feet on the path.

English major that I am, I can’t resist the metaphor inherent here. Walking through downtown Charleston with my eyes forward is very much how I’ve walked figuratively through life. Always looking ahead, always watching people and places to come, not watching where I stand in the present, where I place my feet as I take tiny steps.

I’ve been forced to give up that tendency of mine temporarily. At this point, about to graduate from College, very little is certain about the future. I don’t know if or where I’ll be teaching next year. I don’t know if I’ll be living with family or on my own. Even the ins-and-outs of my teaching internship are uncertain, generally planned only a few days in advance at the most.

People ask about what I’ll do after graduation, and I stare blankly, as if the answer will write itself in the clouds. All I know for sure is that I’ll work at camp this summer, that I’ll try to find a job teaching. If I don’t get hired, I’ll start seminary…somewhere.

This day-by-day, one foot in front of the other kind of living is new to me. Slightly nerve-wracking, but overall, refreshing. Perhaps I will fall less when I watch where I’m going. Time will tell!