Footprints

I have heard it said that life is a journey, and I guess it is.  Personally, I like to think of it as a stroll through fields of experiences and forests of emotions, with the body providing the means, and the mind choosing the direction.  If I have learned anything over the years, it is that what I think determines who I am, and therefore, what I do.  What I believe drives me.  What I love, nurtures me.  What I dislike both saddens me and hardens my resolve.  I weep for those things that, as time has passed, were lost to me.  But I also sing for the things that have touched me and guided me when my direction was uncertain.  I worry that I have not done enough, have not fulfilled my purpose, whatever it is.  I struggle with the realities of my world.  So much hate.  So much pain.  I reason that it is not because of me, but without me, it won’t change.  As I watch each day evolve, I ask myself “have I done something, anything, that will make tomorrow better then today.”  What will be my legacy?

Little things I think.  Baby steps.  Small acts.  Simple gestures.  The power of a smile.  The healing qualities of a touch.  A kind or soothing word.  The gift of listening. All insignificant by themselves, but when compounded, can build a chapel in your heart.  Concern, compassion.  Tools with which I can shape my world.  Is it enough.  Probably not.  But were I not to even try, what then?  What has been my purpose?  The footprints that I leave behind will fade with age.  But perhaps, just perhaps, something that I have done, something that I have said, will leave a lasting imprint.  Because of it, in some small way, tomorrow will be a little better.  I can accept that.  I had a purpose.