According to the Fitbit strapped around my wrist, I logged close to 7,000 steps by the end of yesterday’s work day.
It’s interesting to think about how many different kinds of steps there are: Long, purposeful strides. Short steps bridging space between this person and the next. Steps on stairs, up and down, and those errand kinds of steps taken to get things done. I’ve noticed how my steps slow a bit when my thoughts stall and I don’t quite remember where I was going, or why.
Home steps aren’t all that different than work steps, really. Back and forth between the dishwasher and the cupboard, the stove and the fridge, down the stairs to the laundry room, and back up the stairs to fold. Steps walked in circles to pick up, put away, and tidy. My very favorite home steps: my husband washes dishes and I dry, walking and talking and loving right there at the sink.
I take slippered steps down the stairs in the morning to my coffee pot and my writing. I’m ready to take on the world and tackle the list when I lace up my sneakers. I wonder about the steps my sons’ shoes have taken as I curse where they’ve been left and I trip over them, one more time.
The very best kind of steps are thoughtful and slow. Meandering steps. Steps and stops. Ellipses steps … like pauses … taken almost always on a Sunday with my camera in hand. Smiling steps. Hopeful steps. Happy steps.