Grounded Living | Reflection by Nick Cummings '23
“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” Mt. 6:34
I am ashamed to admit I am not a big fan of hikes. I’ve tried many different hikes and while they haven’t been particularly unenjoyable, it’s just not my ideal use of free time. I want to like hiking. Good exercise in the beauty of creation? Right on. Personally? I just don’t have the passion for it. I will say it’s probably more so an error on my part than a flaw with the activity of hiking. The outdoors is great and I love exercise. The problem with hikes for me is that I spend the duration of the hike staring at the ground. I’m constantly reminded to “look up!” but I can’t bring myself to do it or else I might trip and fall. There are roots coming up out of the ground and some rocks aren’t as stable as they seem, so it's important to stay vigilant for the sake of my ankles. So after giving hiking an honest shot, I don’t think it’s for me. A man can only look at so much dirt and so many rocks before the appeal wears off.
The point of sharing this has less to do with informing you all about my activity preferences and more so with how it relates to what I’ve been learning about life lately. In all things except hiking I am not a ground-looker. I am a dreamer of sorts. While in the abstract it sounds awfully nice and admirable to be a dreamer, in reality, it causes me a lot of trouble. Namely, that it’s damn near impossible to keep your feet on the ground when your head is in the clouds (and if I’ve learned anything from hiking, keeping your feet on the ground is a trait one should seek to have). I often catch myself looking out into space and just imagining all the things I might do one day. I could start a business, be a professor, run for mayor, go off the grid and build a cabin in the woods, elope and move to Italy, drop out and train to join the Harlem Globetrotters … the possibilities are endless.
Having spent my whole life seeking to widen my possibilities, I’ve reached the point now where I almost wish the possibilities were more limited. I have begun to suffer from chronic choice paralysis. Don’t get me wrong, it’s great fun (and I believe, to an extent, well and good) to dream and I won’t stop myself from drifting off from time to time, but I’m appreciative of the moments when I am pulled back down to earth. It is in those moments where I can live in what is instead of what could be. Before I go on worrying about what I’ll be doing when I’m 45 or whether or not my kids will want to play the same sports I want them to play (this is, in fact, something I have thought about at length numerous times in the past few months), I need to pass my finals this semester. I am working on taking the advice of Kris Kringle from the 1970 Christmas movie, Santa Claus is Comin’ to Town (‘tis the season), “put one foot in front of the other.” I think there is something deep and good behind why God made it so we don’t just teleport. Our bodies, souls, and minds were all made to move one step at a time. I imagine life is meant to be lived that way because it’s the only way we can live. One foot in front of the other, step by step, day by day.