Even a period of social isolation does not change the fact that we are social beings. Our actions impact others; they leave an imprint. During walks in the park this cold and snowy February, I have been watching people skate, play hockey, cross country ski, pull sleds with babies snuggled inside and walk on the frozen lake. I’ve seen footprints on the snow-covered lake.
I’ve wondered whether it would be a good idea for me to step onto the ice. Each day on my walk, I ponder that question, looking for evidence that the lake is frozen solid, that it is as safe to walk on as any other sheet of snow-covered ice.
In other words, if I walk onto the ice, I want to know there are no holes or weak spots where I might end up with a foot in the cold, cold water.
For weeks now, the frozen lake has invited people to venture onto it. I have never witnessed someone fall through the ice or seen any open water. But there are no guarantees in life.
Yesterday was a cold and sunny day. The park looked like a winter wonderland with people sledding on the hills and skating on the lake turned ice rink where snow had been cleared. When I walked the path around the lake, I considered following the imprints onto the ice.
A couple on the path before me ventured down onto the lake. I watched them but continued on the path until a little voice inside suggested I get a closer look. I walked to the edge of the lake and paused to watch a woman skating. Then I stepped onto the ice and walked in the area of the skater. It wasn’t even slippery!
Those steps gave me such joy! I had taken a calculated risk based on footprints in the snow, the temperature and conscious observation. I overcame my fear!
Now, I am not declaring the lake safe for winter activities, you need to make your own decisions about that. Changing weather conditions are a factor. I am saying that I can trust my observations including imprints left by those who had gone before me. I can trust an intuitive hunch.
Wherever we go, we leave imprints. What imprints am I leaving behind? Are they ones that I would want others to follow? I think especially of my young grandchildren when I consider that question.
Young children are impressionable; they take in everything unmitigated by intellectual filters. Whatever they experience leaves an imprint on their developing selves, like a footprint in the snow.
They are learning through imitation. What are they learning from me? How do I treat myself, others and objects I encounter? How do I live the ideals I hold dear?
Actions imbued with love are worthy of the imitation of children. When they come back to us, they are such a joy to receive!
When our actions are less than loving, the only thing to do is to remember love. Find your heart. Step onto a new path, make a new imprint. Take the risk to start again.
Every moment is like a field of fresh untrodden snow. I consider the freedom to choose where I walk and the imprints I leave behind to be the greatest privilege of being human.
Before I go to sleep at night, I ask myself, what imprints have I left behind today?
And I say this Apache prayer:
Looking behind I am filled with gratitude.
Looking forward I am filled with vision.
Looking upwards I am filled with strength.
Looking within I discover peace.
