I don’t remember anything about the first time I learned to walk.
I don’t remember anything about when I first found the rhythm in my legs to move one after another or when I gained enough balance throughout to keep myself from tumbling over. I don’t remember how many tries it took me, where I was, or who stood steps away, bribing me to meet them.
I assume I probably took off faster than I could handle, stumbling a few times, and hitting the ground once or twice. I assume my dad probably took credit, and my mom probably cried, but those first steps are all a vague assumption of who I am. I don’t remember anything about the first time I learned to walk, but I do know that somewhere between now and then, I haven’t stopped.
I learned to walk years ago, and every day since, I’ve taken more steps than I could count.
Walking throughout the world around me, every experience I’ve encountered has become a step in my life in which I’ve taken. Every person I’ve met has become a step in building the circle around me, each place I’ve been has become a step toward a dream, and every fall has become a step toward the next.
Despite every step, I will still be learning to walk.
Though I have once learned to place one front in front of the other, the experiences I carry have become a new weight with which I now walk, and for that, I now have to learn how to find a new sense of balance in each step I take to keep myself upright. As I continue to move, one foot in front of the other, I will continue to have to re-learn this sense of balance and how to walk.
In a world where I am constantly changing, there will not be a time when I do not have to re-learn how to walk. The surfaces beneath me will never be as soft as they once were. My feet will never be as small as when they first met the ground. The bribes at the end of the hall will never be as insignificant as a set of open arms. As these things continue to change, I will be forced to learn to change with them.
Though I do not remember those first steps, I remember every step in between. I remember every step between now and then that explains the existence of my being, the reasoning of why I am the way I am, and every step I’ve had to re-learn to take.
I don’t remember anything about the first time I learned to walk, but I do know that though I know how to, I’m not done learning.
