I remember when I was younger I was petrified that I would step on a crack. You know, because I love my mother, and I wouldn’t want her to break her back simply because I wasn’t vigilant enough in where I placed my steps.
Then as I got older I often tried to avoid puddles that would wreck the bottom of my pants leg. Later on my eyes kept straying to the ground only after a good rain, when I was sure there would be worms about, and I wasn’t ready for the carnage to ensue.
But when it’s dry out and I’m on the move, the last thing on my mind anymore is looking down. I’ve tripped over branches, and pencils, and various other items because I’ve forgotten to watch where my feet were going. I get so caught up in whatever I’m headed towards that I lose focus on how safe I need to be getting there.
So when was the last time you looked down? Was it after you fell on your face that one time? Was it when there was a baby about, crawling on the floor, and you were wary of stepping on the wee one? Or was it so long ago you’ve completely forgotten now? The only time it seems we look down now is when our eyes are trained on those tiny rectangles in our hands, and then the downward glances are trained on something that isn’t even on the ground.
You’d be amazed at what you’ll notice when you take the time to look at the ground beneath your feet. Sometimes what you’re missing are complex patterns, unique stones, brilliant colors, weathered wood, plush carpet, or lush green grass. Sometimes what you’re missing is everything.