Today I was on my w-a-l-k with Psycho dog when I noticed something.
A lot of my feet.
I lifted my face and gazed down the street, but soon found myself staring at the ground, looking deep into the cracks of the concrete sidewalks.
When I look at the ground, I miss a lot. I miss the murder of crows blackening a leaf-bare tree. I miss the Very Brazen Coyote lurking in the middle of the street, waiting to devour my dog. I miss the smile of the little old lady raking leaves into a trash bag. I walk into a lamp post.
In spite of several efforts to look up and look ahead, I found myself ground gazing again and again.
It hit me that I have been living my life that way. Looking down. I allowed life to beat me down so much, I forgot the view around me. I don’t feel worthy of looking people in the eye because… because… what if they see my battle scars and judge me?
Am I hiding?
If so, why?
Right now I don’t have answers to these questions. But I am aware of the problem. I am faced with a choice. Will I live bodily and look up?
Or, will I continue to hide and let my gaze scrape the ground?