When I wrote last week about my love of rocks, I started thinking about all the ways we use stones as metaphor. I’ve already written about “milestones” HERE. Another that comes to mind is the “stepping stone.”
When I hike, I enjoy crossing small streams using stepping stones, ones either deliberately placed, or just naturally occurring. First, I scan the layout and decide my initial step. I might test out the first stone’s stability by rocking my foot on its surface before stepping onto it. If I know my next step, I might just go ahead and take it, and the next, lightly hopping across the stream.
Sometimes, however, the best path isn’t always clear, and I have to judge each step going forward. Or change plans if the original one turns out to have too far of a stretch or a jump. It can be tricky. I’ve even created my own stepping stone path by placing rocks where I needed them to be. Balance, foot-eye coordination, and leg strength all play into the equation.
At times, I have had to hike along the bank of a creek for some distance in order to find a suitable crossing, but I cannot think of a time that I could not cross and had to turn back.
The metaphor of stepping stones is used to illustrate how to navigate a difficult situation. If you break down a difficult task into the smaller steps that need to be taken, the wide expanse ahead doesn’t seem as daunting. When I looked at the long game of my medical education, I was easily overwhelmed and discouraged, but when I took it one year at a time, it was more manageable to contemplate.
When Harvey was given the diagnosis of younger-onset Alzheimer’s disease, it felt catastrophic to look too far into the future. One step at a time, one day at a time, was far easier.
Ask a child if they can build a wall, and they will undoubtedly answer, “No!” But ask them if they can lay down one rock, and the response changes to “Yes.” “Ok,” you might reply, “just keep laying down rocks in a line, then stack some more on top, and you will have built a wall—one stone at a time.”
Stepping stones provide us a way to get from here to there, one step at a time. We might falter as we decide which next step to take, balancing precariously on the last stone. We may need to lay down a stone we have been carrying in order for it to be used as a stepping stone. We might accidentally step into the stream and get wet, but we have learned something in the process.
Once on the opposite bank, we can look back and see how far we have come and the steps that led us to safety.