The first step towards greatness is seing it in others. If you see, how greatness emerges from mousy, uninteresting former classmates that blossomed into these beautiful talented writers, artists or housewives, you´re able to take the first step towards greatness yourself.
Step on a crack, I’ll knock you on your back. I put those cracks there to let my pain drain away from my mind and leave my life for good. Get your foot off them, your blocking the healing.
Think about how much meaning that word has in it. Your first step is one of the most pivotal moments in your life. It leads to walking, which will eventually get you to almost anywhere you’d like to go. Another way to look at it is to see it in learning. You learn in steps. Step 1, Step 2, Step 3, etc. In a stairway, there are so many steps and they always lead to somewhere. No matter what type of step you’re referring to, it leads you somewhere other than your starting point.
Just one step starts the journey, however direct or indirect the path will be. And for the movement to continue a renewal and nurturing or intention is called for. So call I this morning.
I stepped out into the humid night air and made my way over to a lawn chair. I held my old doll in my arms. It was comforting; I didn’t care how old I was. And I just sat down and started crying. Crying for believing that those two were ever my friends. I couldn’t think of one thing in that whole year that they had done to show they were my best friends. Maybe I was trying to block the memories. But I didn’t care. If nothing came to mind instantly, then that was good enough proof for me that this short-lived friendship needed its frayed cords cut.
Step up, boy
I can’t.
What do you fear?
Not reaching the top.
Not reaching success?
No.
Then what?
Not being good enough.
For whom?
You.
Step up, boy. Do not look to impress anyone but yourself and you will prove to me that you are good enough.
Taking tons of steps. Forwards and back. To the beat of the music. The right step, or the wrong step? The world is full of steps. Of many different kinds.
One two step. Or tripping I guess you kinda need to step in order to trip but then again you could just fall over too stepping stones and yeah falling into water when walking across stepping stones sucks especially when its in one of the japanese gardens and its over a little river type thingy that really sucks
Slowly walking through the corridor he could hear his ever step reverberating off the cold cobblestones. His breath came out in slow hot puffs, miniature clouds that would disappear in moments.
Every day, when he’d wake up, he always thought about that first step out of bed and how it was either going to lead to a good day or a bad one. ‘Either way,’ he’d think, ‘ this is going to make one hell of a story.’
The last step tumbled him. He quickly picked himself up and gathered his papers, careful to put them into the proper order. There would hell to pay if he arrived without the contracts still in their correct order. Mr Arrington was a real stickler for that.
The escalator went up, up, up. Business men and women to the left of her walked briskly, their heels clicking. Behind her, there was a young couple trudging onto the first step with two large black suitcases.
In 7th grade, the school required that we take drama classes as part of the fine arts initiative. Much to our dismay, drama was less about watching movies and plays and more about performing in awkward period costumes to our classmates. At one point, we were required to take dance lessons as part of the class, so we all stumbled through softshoe dancing and imaginary tap dancing.
This will be a big step for me.
My best friend is leaving tomorrow.
My other best friend left yesterday.
So now I’m on my own.
I’m going to college.
That’s a big step.
I get to be on my own, cope with being on my own.
Alone.
But I can step up to the plate.
I hope, anyways.
It’s scary.
I lie awake at night thinking about it.
My stomach is churning because of it.
But I know somehow, someway, I’ll make it through.
One step at a time.
Step one. Time to let go. Just need to step. Step away from it all, step into a new life. Steps toward the person you want to become, step away from the anger. In just a few steps we’ll be there. Step it up until you’re there.
Ninety-two. Ninety-three. Ninety-four. I continued to climb the spiral staircase of the castle’s western tower. Ninety-five. Ninety-six. Ninety-seven. I drew in a deep breath and pressed onward, the tiny flame from my candle quivering as I ascended. What was, what is, what might be, heartache, pain, despair, death – I could avoid all this by sentencing myself to the tower. I would never allow myself leave – ever – so I continued to climb the steps. Ninety-eight. Ninety-nine. One-hundred.
The bark opened up in the spring – cracks ran round the trunk in long spirals and the verdure opened in a banner like inverted lava flows – the local kids would climb the stair round the tree when the earth was too warm to lie comfortably
I’ve climbed ten thousand stairs on ten thousand pikes with ten thousand blank-faced suits careening by on ten thousand little errands when all I want to do is reach the ten thousandth step. One high step, and I will watch the world fly by.
One step after the other I ran as fast as i could down the hall. The scream could only have come from one person; but who would let out a scream in the middle of the dorm hall, why had she done it—then I saw her, and this weird shady man holding onto her arms I fumbled in my purse for my pepper spray, It was gone, How can i protect her?
Take this step….just one more….that was ok….do another… but i couldn’t get my feet to take the next step. instead, i collapsed, not bothering about the mouthful of sand or the fact that there were people still after me, i was too tired to care, death would be welcome if it relieved this feeling in my over used muscles beyond pain.
He took one step, and another, and another. The winding staircase led up, up, and up. He peered up as he walked, trying so desperately to find the top. But he couldn’t.
There was nothing but endless staircase. Step after step, he trudged along. Pain burned in his thighs, sweat pouring down his face.
i jogged up the stairs to the door and rang the doorbell. My grandmother answered it.
“My Jasmine, you sure have a spring in ur step today.”
I laughed, still trying to catch my breath. “Thanks.”
their lives just fell together effortlessly, without any fuss or need to make a decision, their walking fell in step and they both wanted the same path, they both wanted wild places and rough tracks and the deep healing of undisturbed nature and wide sea vistas, both wanted to walk on the shore and let the waves wash their feet and soak the cuffs of their trousers as the sun went down, the shags skimmed the water, the curlews moaned softly and the porpoises leapt, it was belonging, it was home it was always expect and welcome
The first step was the hardest. But it got easier as he went along. He had been mad at first, but he was happy now. Happy he got his left leg back, even if it wasn’t actually his. he leg didn’t quite match the other one, but it was good enough.
(Inspired by Unwind)
I think the first step to life is to actually open your eyes. It’s not about your foot taking on a few inches forward or backward. It’s your eyes because your eyes will see where you go and what you do. Where you’re headed and what you’re after. It’s your eyes which tell you everything. It’s the first step in life. You see… and then you move.
I already took a step forwards but she’s nowhere around here and now I’m wondering if any of this was really worth it, because we’ll both be gone next year and none of this will even matter and the next step in the journey might be the hardest thing in my life and I can’t imagine how we’re going to make it.
Steps were my favourite band for a crazy moment when i tried to recapture my youth by dancing on tables and wearing red shoes like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.
The music was a drug. It was a brief addiction lasting several months. I became obsessed and sought out every gay bar with a juke box.
That lurching, heart-stopping moment of the missed step: how can I forget? It’s a rush, a headiness, a tingling nerves as the entirety of my being falls into itself, rushing to the front of me as my hands wave and i lose the control I have so desperately clung to with all my might.
make me go forward. Dont let me hesitate. My legs cant move. I reach the first step and I freeze. My balance is gone. I feel dizzy and incapable of anything.
The night closes in. I cant see the top. Where am I?
The steps were covered in a light, almost invisible ice. Aria put her boot on the slick surface, and instantaneously fell on her back. Mother was there to pick her up, and Father even grabbed her arm, but they were gone by the time I had fallen.
Step by step. One step at a time. That old saying my mom used a lot…what was it…something about an elephant and eating, I’m not sure. She used it when I said “one step at a time” or I played the song by that pop artist, the name of which I have forgotten.
I faltered as I climbed towards the summit. The monastery lay beyond the top of a set of steps that seemed to go on forever.
The mist rose and suddenly I saw the entrance. The air was rare and my breath evaporated like the spirit of my soul.
Steppen. Da steppt der Bär. Ich hasse Steppen. Ich liebe es zuzusehen, wie jemand mit Absätzen und Fußsohlen in rasanter Geschwindigkeit auf den Boden hämmert, aber ich hasse es, wenn man das Stepptanz nennt. Ich hasse es, wenn ich es bewundern soll, wenn meine Meinung festgelegt und vorweggenommen wird. Und ich liebe Steppdecken.
One step forward, five steps back. A step here, another step there. Can’t I just walk from Point A to Point B without getting entangled in this waltz that is forever spinning me here and there, whirling me closer before taking me away just as quickly? All I want in life is to support myself and be happy, but this dance won’t let that happen.
The first step towards greatness is seing it in others. If you see, how greatness emerges from mousy, uninteresting former classmates that blossomed into these beautiful talented writers, artists or housewives, you´re able to take the first step towards greatness yourself.
Step on a crack, I’ll knock you on your back. I put those cracks there to let my pain drain away from my mind and leave my life for good. Get your foot off them, your blocking the healing.
Think about how much meaning that word has in it. Your first step is one of the most pivotal moments in your life. It leads to walking, which will eventually get you to almost anywhere you’d like to go. Another way to look at it is to see it in learning. You learn in steps. Step 1, Step 2, Step 3, etc. In a stairway, there are so many steps and they always lead to somewhere. No matter what type of step you’re referring to, it leads you somewhere other than your starting point.
Just one step starts the journey, however direct or indirect the path will be. And for the movement to continue a renewal and nurturing or intention is called for. So call I this morning.
think of mom’s shoes wide heels I was a little boy looking up and the adults were arguing late getting ready to go out
Baby steps they always say. First you must confront the problem. Acknowledge that it exists. Then What? Baby steps.
I stepped out into the humid night air and made my way over to a lawn chair. I held my old doll in my arms. It was comforting; I didn’t care how old I was. And I just sat down and started crying. Crying for believing that those two were ever my friends. I couldn’t think of one thing in that whole year that they had done to show they were my best friends. Maybe I was trying to block the memories. But I didn’t care. If nothing came to mind instantly, then that was good enough proof for me that this short-lived friendship needed its frayed cords cut.
Step up, boy
I can’t.
What do you fear?
Not reaching the top.
Not reaching success?
No.
Then what?
Not being good enough.
For whom?
You.
Step up, boy. Do not look to impress anyone but yourself and you will prove to me that you are good enough.
Taking tons of steps. Forwards and back. To the beat of the music. The right step, or the wrong step? The world is full of steps. Of many different kinds.
Steps are infinite, there’s always one more. The steps are there, an organized hill. It’s up to the organism on what to make of these steps.
One two step. Or tripping I guess you kinda need to step in order to trip but then again you could just fall over too stepping stones and yeah falling into water when walking across stepping stones sucks especially when its in one of the japanese gardens and its over a little river type thingy that really sucks
Slowly walking through the corridor he could hear his ever step reverberating off the cold cobblestones. His breath came out in slow hot puffs, miniature clouds that would disappear in moments.
Every day, when he’d wake up, he always thought about that first step out of bed and how it was either going to lead to a good day or a bad one. ‘Either way,’ he’d think, ‘ this is going to make one hell of a story.’
The last step tumbled him. He quickly picked himself up and gathered his papers, careful to put them into the proper order. There would hell to pay if he arrived without the contracts still in their correct order. Mr Arrington was a real stickler for that.
The escalator went up, up, up. Business men and women to the left of her walked briskly, their heels clicking. Behind her, there was a young couple trudging onto the first step with two large black suitcases.
In 7th grade, the school required that we take drama classes as part of the fine arts initiative. Much to our dismay, drama was less about watching movies and plays and more about performing in awkward period costumes to our classmates. At one point, we were required to take dance lessons as part of the class, so we all stumbled through softshoe dancing and imaginary tap dancing.
This will be a big step for me.
My best friend is leaving tomorrow.
My other best friend left yesterday.
So now I’m on my own.
I’m going to college.
That’s a big step.
I get to be on my own, cope with being on my own.
Alone.
But I can step up to the plate.
I hope, anyways.
It’s scary.
I lie awake at night thinking about it.
My stomach is churning because of it.
But I know somehow, someway, I’ll make it through.
One step at a time.
Step one. Time to let go. Just need to step. Step away from it all, step into a new life. Steps toward the person you want to become, step away from the anger. In just a few steps we’ll be there. Step it up until you’re there.
Ninety-two. Ninety-three. Ninety-four. I continued to climb the spiral staircase of the castle’s western tower. Ninety-five. Ninety-six. Ninety-seven. I drew in a deep breath and pressed onward, the tiny flame from my candle quivering as I ascended. What was, what is, what might be, heartache, pain, despair, death – I could avoid all this by sentencing myself to the tower. I would never allow myself leave – ever – so I continued to climb the steps. Ninety-eight. Ninety-nine. One-hundred.
The bark opened up in the spring – cracks ran round the trunk in long spirals and the verdure opened in a banner like inverted lava flows – the local kids would climb the stair round the tree when the earth was too warm to lie comfortably
I’ve climbed ten thousand stairs on ten thousand pikes with ten thousand blank-faced suits careening by on ten thousand little errands when all I want to do is reach the ten thousandth step. One high step, and I will watch the world fly by.
One step after the other I ran as fast as i could down the hall. The scream could only have come from one person; but who would let out a scream in the middle of the dorm hall, why had she done it—then I saw her, and this weird shady man holding onto her arms I fumbled in my purse for my pepper spray, It was gone, How can i protect her?
Take this step….just one more….that was ok….do another… but i couldn’t get my feet to take the next step. instead, i collapsed, not bothering about the mouthful of sand or the fact that there were people still after me, i was too tired to care, death would be welcome if it relieved this feeling in my over used muscles beyond pain.
He took one step, and another, and another. The winding staircase led up, up, and up. He peered up as he walked, trying so desperately to find the top. But he couldn’t.
There was nothing but endless staircase. Step after step, he trudged along. Pain burned in his thighs, sweat pouring down his face.
i jogged up the stairs to the door and rang the doorbell. My grandmother answered it.
“My Jasmine, you sure have a spring in ur step today.”
I laughed, still trying to catch my breath. “Thanks.”
their lives just fell together effortlessly, without any fuss or need to make a decision, their walking fell in step and they both wanted the same path, they both wanted wild places and rough tracks and the deep healing of undisturbed nature and wide sea vistas, both wanted to walk on the shore and let the waves wash their feet and soak the cuffs of their trousers as the sun went down, the shags skimmed the water, the curlews moaned softly and the porpoises leapt, it was belonging, it was home it was always expect and welcome
The first step was the hardest. But it got easier as he went along. He had been mad at first, but he was happy now. Happy he got his left leg back, even if it wasn’t actually his. he leg didn’t quite match the other one, but it was good enough.
(Inspired by Unwind)
I think the first step to life is to actually open your eyes. It’s not about your foot taking on a few inches forward or backward. It’s your eyes because your eyes will see where you go and what you do. Where you’re headed and what you’re after. It’s your eyes which tell you everything. It’s the first step in life. You see… and then you move.
I already took a step forwards but she’s nowhere around here and now I’m wondering if any of this was really worth it, because we’ll both be gone next year and none of this will even matter and the next step in the journey might be the hardest thing in my life and I can’t imagine how we’re going to make it.
Steps were my favourite band for a crazy moment when i tried to recapture my youth by dancing on tables and wearing red shoes like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.
The music was a drug. It was a brief addiction lasting several months. I became obsessed and sought out every gay bar with a juke box.
That lurching, heart-stopping moment of the missed step: how can I forget? It’s a rush, a headiness, a tingling nerves as the entirety of my being falls into itself, rushing to the front of me as my hands wave and i lose the control I have so desperately clung to with all my might.
step. slowly, deliberately.
Love, with a passion not yet surfaced.
Laugh, with a fire, for everyone to see.
Smile. quickly, let joy spread.
make me go forward. Dont let me hesitate. My legs cant move. I reach the first step and I freeze. My balance is gone. I feel dizzy and incapable of anything.
The night closes in. I cant see the top. Where am I?
The steps were covered in a light, almost invisible ice. Aria put her boot on the slick surface, and instantaneously fell on her back. Mother was there to pick her up, and Father even grabbed her arm, but they were gone by the time I had fallen.
I took one step forward in the black abyss and shuddered in the damp cold. I’m beginning to second guess myself in this barren cave.
Step by step. One step at a time. That old saying my mom used a lot…what was it…something about an elephant and eating, I’m not sure. She used it when I said “one step at a time” or I played the song by that pop artist, the name of which I have forgotten.
Take a step into a new place, a cold place, a broken place, i place called my heart.
I faltered as I climbed towards the summit. The monastery lay beyond the top of a set of steps that seemed to go on forever.
The mist rose and suddenly I saw the entrance. The air was rare and my breath evaporated like the spirit of my soul.
Steppen. Da steppt der Bär. Ich hasse Steppen. Ich liebe es zuzusehen, wie jemand mit Absätzen und Fußsohlen in rasanter Geschwindigkeit auf den Boden hämmert, aber ich hasse es, wenn man das Stepptanz nennt. Ich hasse es, wenn ich es bewundern soll, wenn meine Meinung festgelegt und vorweggenommen wird. Und ich liebe Steppdecken.
One step forward, five steps back. A step here, another step there. Can’t I just walk from Point A to Point B without getting entangled in this waltz that is forever spinning me here and there, whirling me closer before taking me away just as quickly? All I want in life is to support myself and be happy, but this dance won’t let that happen.