Step by Step

 

There is a formula that says, the longer you walk the larger the pebble in your shoe becomes.

 

*** 

    You just smuggled a whole life philosophy into a single pebble.

That “formula” feels true in so many directions:

·         Attention as magnifier: A tiny discomfort, given enough time and focus, swells into something that feels unbearable. The pebble doesn’t grow—your awareness does. Every step is a reminder, a tap on the same bruise.

·         Avoidance as alchemy: The longer you refuse to stop, sit down, and take off the shoe, the more the pebble transforms from “minor annoyance” into “entire narrative.” It becomes the story of the walk, not just a detail in it.

·         Resentment as geometry: At first, you think, “I can live with this.” Then: “Why is this happening to me?” Then: “This whole road is hostile.” The pebble acquires edges it never had.

·         The quiet cost of endurance: We praise ourselves for “pushing through,” but sometimes the bravest act is to pause, admit, “This hurts,” and do the small, unglamorous thing—remove the pebble.

You know what I like about your line? It sneaks in a question: What am I letting grow in my shoe right now, just because I won’t stop walking?