When you’re carrying a canoe above your head, there’s only one thing to focus on: putting one foot—carefully—in front of the other.
Tenderly stepping on the flattest part of the rock. On the driest patch of the marshy path. On the securest step of a slippery decline.
You can’t worry about the mosquitoes buzzing your face; or the wildlife possibly (but probably not) lurking just outside your line of sight; or the backpack of food you left behind (and will have to go back for).
None of those things matter when there’s a canoe above your head.
What matters is what’s right in front of you; what matters is what you can control.
Life can feel a lot like portaging a canoe. Choosing your next steps carefully. Staying focused. Being nimble. Having a weight to bear, but still needing to move forward.
When the load (of life) gets heavy, here’s what I try to be thankful for:
+ Not everyone can bear the weight; I’m fortunate to have the strength.
+ Not everyone has a team (friends; family) to cheer them on; I’m lucky to have mine.
+ The hardest part was the start. And each step brings me closer to the end.
+ What I learn from this will be useful; sometimes right away, but definitely in the future.
When you’re carrying a canoe above your head, what matters is making progress. That each step you take is forward. And soon, you’ll get to rest.
Supplemental reading: On running … and framing challenges as opportunities.