If you are not familiar with this quote, it’s a powerful one, by Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr:
“You don’t have to see the whole staircase to take the first step.”
This concept has been applied across the years and over many different industries and circumstances. The idea is that when we are trying to mobilize or take action, we don’t want to delay by needing the whole sequence of events to be obvious. We just take a step, then the next one, then the next one. Makes sense.
This can be hard to do, but breaking some big, ambitious goal into smaller, achievable steps can open doors. Marathons are run one step at a time. Buildings are created one brick at a time. Healing can happen one breath at a time.
Several years ago I had major surgery. My recovery didn’t go well. I was relegated to spend a lot of time in bed. I couldn’t exercise. I was in a lot of pain. I was detached from the scars that were new to the landscape of my skin. I didn’t feel like I was in my own body at times.
Living in a townhome, my bedroom faced the street. I distantly watched and listened as life happened outside of my window, in between dozing off and trying to distract myself with TV or chatting with friends on the phone. School busses came and went. Neighbors unloaded their groceries. Strangers walked their dogs.
I longed to be back in the world. I craved moving my body again. But I couldn’t. And there was nothing I could do about it. I needed to let the days pass and put some space between the complications and my body’s ability to self-correct. So I waited patiently (and sometimes impatiently) until the day came that I could go outside on my own.
I was so excited to walk outside and start re-engaging with my running path and routine. That first day I went out, I remember feeling unstoppable like I would walk for hours. But to my disappointment, the first step out was painful. I was hurting and fatigued having lost my stamina to exercise. I was dizzy and turned around quickly, pretty mad and disappointed that this hadn’t been the “comeback” walk I’d used to motivate myself after weeks of being in bed.
But the next day, I went out again. I walked a few more steps and made it around the block. In the days and weeks that followed, I kept taking just a few steps beyond what I’d done the day before. I couldn’t see the whole path, only what was in front of me. I walked in Faith. I re-built my stamina and within months was back on the distance running circuit.
I was not familiar with MLK’s quote at that time. But getting back on my literal feet, was the embodiment for me of how it works. We literally just have to take one step. Then the next, then the next. My experience in recovering from loss has been similar.
The initial year after someone dies, we have to do all the “firsts” without that person: The first Christmas, birthday, Mother’s Day, Day of school (this is especially tough if you’ve lost a child and school bus season hits) and on and on. Each day brings its own challenge.
We smell the Autumn air, and realize it is the first time the leaves are changing without our loved one. Or the first snowflakes fall and it is the first time we have seen snow since that person died. Or maybe we finally have our first belly laugh, since the death. That is new too.
I share this because eventually, if we are fortunate enough to survive, we realize we have sustained ourselves through a full year, a whole 365 days without them. Each moment can feel like trying to take that next “step” around neighborhood with a recovering, aching body. But by going a little further each day we create a momentum of movement that carries us forward.
If you are facing a challenge, like recovering from some physical illness, or trying to live life without someone you love, give yourself a break. There is no shortcut to getting through challenges. We must simply put one foot in front of the other. We don’t need to see the big picture and feel defeated before we even put on our proverbial shoes. We just need to get still, look and listen, then do the next “right” thing, for us.
As a ten-year-old, in the fourth grade I wrote these words on a homemade Valentine’s Day Card to my parents:
“My name is Lisa Chase.
I work at my own pace.
And still I manage to win the race.”
Little did I know, I was onto something that I would come to literally depend on for my own survival.
What first step have you been delaying because you don’t see the whole staircase? Do you know what is getting in the way? Have you tried breaking it down into smaller segments? Please share your feedback in the comments and let’s together, say no to overwhelm and yes to the next right thing.