I am a Geek. We have established that.  At least, for a woman my age, I know a fair amount concerning the world of technology.  Anyway, I am always trying new apps and devices and such.

Writing apps.  A lot of different writing apps.
One that I am using at this very minute is called DayOne.  It is a journaling software.  If you journal everyday, I recommend it.  I don’t journal.  BUT.  I write this thing daily, and I like the way it looks, types, and saves.  Anyway.  On to the point.

Every time you open it, it gives you a fresh new piece of paper, with the date nicely assigned at the top.  As a bonus, it gives you something to write about, if you need the help.  I never use these, but if someone is journaling, I can see the benefit.

Tonight, when I opened the app…. it asked:  “When and where did you take your first steps alone?”

Well.  Now if THAT isn’t a question begging for an answer?

So.  I’ll begin.

It was a dark and rainy night.  Pitch dark.  The wind was howling, and the old shutters on the house made thumping noises, as they fought the wind, making every attempt to stay connected to their house.

The rain pounded the panes of rippling glass on the windows.  Thunder rumbled in the distance.  It was unseasonably cool for early April.  In fact, it was just above freezing.

Inside a fire roared.  The family who lived inside that house, stayed close to the light of the fireplace.  They were popping corn over the hearth.  The room filled with the warm aroma.

As the kernels slowed to a halt, the Mother asked, “Did someone get the bowls?”  Ann & Sue got up at once to retrieve them.  One of the boys said, “Are we allowed to have a Coke?”  The Father nodded.  You can split one between each two of you.  Ed, Jerry, and Jane proceeded to the kitchen to prepare the drinks.  “We’re going to need salt,” Julie added.  “Why don’t you get it?” asked the Father.  And off she went.

As Julie passed through the doorway, there was a large crash in the kitchen.  And then another.  Both the Mother and the Father leapt from their chairs to investigate.  And… there I sat.  All alone.  On the floor.  In front of the open fireplace.

Now, most people do not remember their 11 month of life.  I see it clear as crystal.  I placed one hand on the cushion of my Father’s chair, and hoisted my wobbly legs into standing position.

Slowly.  Ever so slowly.  I lifted my hand from that recliner…. one little finger at a time.  I raised both hands above my head, as it just felt like the right thing to do… in preparation for the daring endeavor I was about to attempt.  And then.  THEN.  My right foot extended.  Followed by my left.  My right. My left.  And there I was…. taking my first steps alone.

As the other’s clamored back into the room, I dropped my diaper butt right down on the floor, and sat wide-eyed.  They were oblivious to the magic that had recently transpired.  I sat momentarily, and then I couldn’t help it.  A smile crossed my face… filled with an air of smug accomplishment.  I was 11 months old… and I rocked.

Those…. were my first steps alone.

And that my friends, is the story of how EVERY journey begins.  With the taking of one, single, little, step.

(Now, if you tune in tomorrow night, I will tell you about the first time I got the whole potty-training deal down-pat.   It will keep you on the edge of your seat.)

The party never ends here.  I just never ends.

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The journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.  —  Lao Tzu
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The first step toward change is awareness. The second step is acceptance.  —  Nathaniel Branden
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Every day is a journey, and the journey itself is home.  —  Matsuo Basho