Ten Thousand Steps

An aside

Tell me, do you remember counting your steps? You may have tried once. Or twice. You may have tried several times. But not every time. Never every time.

So, when you count your steps, what number do you get to? Ten and done? Twenty and that’s a fair amount? Fifty and you are halfway to hundred? Hundred and there aren’t really any significant numbers after that?

You see, it takes something to count ten thousand steps. It takes awareness that people never exercise. That society never tells us to exercise it, why, it’s just something that you have to stumble upon. Or be forced to do.

I like to walk along trails. These trails are worn down by many years of few people walking on them. These trails will continue to be worn down by many years of few people walking on them.

I am aware of the trails. I thinking anyone walking on the trails are in some way aware that they are indeed walking and on a trail, but the aren’t aware of the trails. They don’t really see it.

Take ten thousand steps and you will start to see like I do. Take ten thousand steps and you will start to hear like I do. Take ten thousand steps and you will start to sense like I do. You will start to think like I do.

I have reflected on these walks. Not just about myself or the other occupants of the trails, but about everything. I have philosophized, theorized and planned. Maybe you won’t, but you will think in a way that you never did before.

I was walking on one of these trails, counting under my breath, alone in the woods. 99,997. 99,998. 99,999. I took one more step and stopped. Did I really take ten thousand steps? Was my awareness absolute? Was I distracted by the girls jogging by me or the birds chirping above me?

Maybe, I thought. Maybe my focus drifted. Maybe my resolution wasn’t absolute. My eyes, I thought. My eyes lost focus, my eyes were not absolute.

I put my hands on my face, fingertips touching my forehead, and looked up to the sun overhead. I am limited. I am not aware. I am not perfect. My fingers curled in as my hands slid down my face. My nails pressed on the tops of my closed eyelids. My pulse was steady. I knew this was right.

So maybe I am alone in my decisions. After ten thousands steps, I might be alone in my actions. But I dare you to go, take ten thousands steps and see what you can see.