rocks | Thinking Through My Lens

As I slipped and slid over mounds of rocks today, he announced, “You know, walking over uneven surfaces is good for people our age.”

What the $%@*!

I was not feeling the joys of rocks and their slippery unevenness as I walked along the beach today. And “people our age,” what does that even mean?

Hmmpf! But I must admit, mounds of rocks do not keep me away from the beach. Even though I am a bit confounded by just why our beautiful sandy beach turns into a rock monster in the fall and winter.

Then I started noticing the different rock qualities. Does smaller gravelly rock count as an uneven surface? It is definitely easier to walk on, less slipping and sliding and maybe even a bit less sweating involved.

The larger rocks, ranging in from the size of my fist to the size of my foot, definitely create more unevenness and I find myself needing to concentrate on my footing to stay upright while trying not to turn an ankle or worse. They seem to roll and rumble, mini avalanches always a possibility. And while the photo doesn’t capture it well, they always seem to be piled up on a slant.

But then I started thinking about some non-beach rock experiences with much bigger rocks. In hiking terminology climbing up larger rocks is called scrambling (at least that is my understanding). My most vivid memory of this kind of climbing was on a hike in South Dakota a few summers ago where we scrambled to a peak with gorgeous views. It was not my favorite kind of hiking–lots of feeling like my feet were ready to skid out from under me. My solution was to lower my center of gravity and use my hands.

So just what exactly is supposed to be good about navigating over rocks or other uneven surfaces? I’m guessing this is about working on balance, building up the kinds of muscles that help with balance, maybe even developing confidence that traversing these surfaces is a possibility. Now I’m wondering, does this also apply to surfaces like snow and ice where footing is also sometimes in question? And is this physical activity also good for the brain where concentration and problem solving are needed, taking the automaticity that we take for granted on smooth surfaces?

Hmmm…more to ponder.

As I walked down the beach this afternoon my eye caught the juxtaposition of the massive cliff walls and a small stack of beach pebbles. I found myself thinking about magnitude–the contrast of big and small.

I chatted on the phone earlier today with someone from an organization not directly related to education. She was describing the struggles they have in their organization with clear, concise communication of complicated ideas. The same struggles we are always talking to teachers about…from kindergarten to college. Add the equity piece, the fact that some people have tremendous access and opportunity–often based on financial status and skin color–and the dilemma goes from a stack of small stones to an enormous cliff that crumbles and slips at unexpected moments.

Those cliffs keep me up at night, my efforts dwarfed by their magnitude, overwhelming me with the impossibility of the lift. I find myself drawn to the pebbles. They fit perfectly in my hand as I rub my fingers over their surface, smoothing and soothing as I follow the path nature left before me. I pick one up, adding it my carefully balanced stack, wondering how many I can carry before they topple.

Luckily, I’ve come to the place in my career where I don’t have to decide between the cliffs and the pebbles. I try my best to exert influence where I have the agency to do things that matter…even if they only matter to a few. But my eye remains on the issues of magnitude…maybe if I keep stacking those small stones near the small stones of my colleagues and allies our stacks will grow to solutions of magnitude. Those nightmares that keep me up at night will transform into dreams come true. Maybe this art I found on the beach today is a talisman for the future.