Baby Steps

I remember the time when my son didn't walk or crawl.  He rolled.  He was the best roller I ever saw.  He made an art of it.  It always seemed like he looked across the room and set his mind on getting somewhere, planned out his strategy, and started his maneuvers.

With determination on his face, he would roll to a piece of furniture, use his feet to spin till he faced the proper direction, begin rolling again till making it to his next predetermined position, make the necessary adjustments and efficiently proceed to whatever he had set his mind on.

It's interesting how this compares to adults who have difficulty getting where they want to go in life.  We call it baby steps when we make short steps of progress, but when I think of my son, it seems he turned the phrase around.  He merely rolled, yet his determination and achievement were more the end than the beginning.

I know that part of accomplishment involves moving beyond our childhood, but I think another part of it is retaining our childhood.  Sometimes achieving a goal has more to do with remembering what we've left behind than where we are going.  Though it may seem a foreign and distant place, the other side of the horizon may be where we began.