Collecting Pebbles

Come with me into a vast, gray space. There are no walls, no ceilings, no trees, no sky. Each person starts alone in this emptiness. They can go anywhere they’d like, they just need to start walking. As one goes, the landscape around them comes into focus. The trees, blurry in the distance, start to take shape. The ground beneath one’s feet is solid and sure. It’s a rough path, climbing and dipping as one moves through each day. Eventually it becomes apparent that this road of life is taking the hiker up mountains and down into valleys, though the path ahead is only clear enough to take the next few steps.

I often see my life through stories like this or through abstract art that flows and dances behind my eyes and takes shape when complex emotions or situations come up. These stories and art allow me to work through tough situations and better help me explain them to myself and others. I know there’s a technical term for this way of thinking, but I’m not sure what it is. I’d like to continue to tell you about one of these stories I saw in my mind the other day.

As I was rocking our baby to sleep I was pondering what it meant to me to go through hard circumstances. Some people come out the other side stronger and more capable, and others barely eek through and spend the rest of their lives almost hunched over this difficulty, protecting it from the rest of the world and, in turn, shutting everything else out. I think it’s safe to say we’ve all had interactions with both types of people. I’m not going to get into the specifics of family history, a support system, faith, resiliency, community, etc. I understand those all play a role in how people come through unexpected situations. I’m more just explaining how I “see” these two types of people.

Still with me?

As each of us walk this path of life, going up these mountains and wandering in the valleys, we’re collecting pebbles. These pebbles tell the story of where we’ve been. Illness. Hardship. Poverty. Loss. Every thing we go through, we get a pebble in our pocket. Some people collect more pebbles over their lifetime than others, but we all end up with at least a few.

Here is where the two types of people mentioned earlier differ in my mind. As they walk, the first type notices these pebbles keep getting dropped into their pocket. They play with them and they contemplate what they mean. And then, they turn around and, like Hansel and Gretel, leave a small trail of pebbles behind them. Are they going to go back and pick them up? No, but they hope that by taking the time to reach into their pocket and leave that trail, they can help the person coming behind them find their way on this sometimes dark and difficult path.

The second type of person also notices these pebbles being dropped into their pocket. But they don’t contemplate them; they resist. They keep walking, hoping if they ignore the ever-growing weight at their side, the pebbles will go away. But they don’t. They keep appearing. Pretty soon, one pocket is full, so the pebbles begin accumulating in their other pocket. So on and so forth until this individual is so weighed down by the burden of these pebbles, they find it nearly impossible to continue on their journey.

Having this story play in my mind helps me think a little more in-depth about what I’m doing with each of these “pebbles” I’m given and how I’m helping those who come behind.