Halfway down the stairs...

"Halfway down the stairs

is the stair where I sit.

There isn't any other stair,

quite like it.

It isn't at the bottom.

It isn't at the top.

So, this is the stair

Where I always stop." ---- A. A. Milne

The little nursery rhyme poem is from A. A. Milne's collection entitled "When we were very young". Many people don't realize that Milne was a lovely poet, in addition to his Winnie the Pooh fame. But, his books of children's poetry are timeless, wonderful, and some are just delightfully cheeky. I have a special place in my heart for "When we were very young" because it's the first book, and an early edition at that, that my father ever gave to me. I still have the enscribed volume, and I have to admit that I often find more wisdom in this slim collection than I do in many well lauded, poet laureate treatise. Sometimes Milne is exceptionally funny. But, other times, his wisdom is Zen in its simplicity and thoughtfulness. In this poem, the image of finding yourself halfway down the stairs, in complete contentment, is very fulfilling. It describes the sentiment so many children have: of living purely in the moment, of not wanting to be anywhere else but right where they exist in that place and time. It evokes a feeling of being utterly at peace in one's place in one's growth.

To be both literal and metaphorical, I happen to love the idea of the staircase. For much of my life, I've lived in one story (or mainly one story) houses. I eat, sleep, play, work and otherwise exist on the same level. This means no stairs to fall down with a basket of laundry. But, it also means that most of my house is open for all to see. There is very little separation between the public and private spaces of my home. The image of the staircase is one I find so enthalling because it represents a progression. Because my own house's configuration, there is a sense of not making progress during the day....unless up and down the hallway can count laterally, of course.

Staircases are so often the metaphor for progress. We see Biblical references to Jacob's ladder, and most of us, of a "certain generation" can easily sing every word to Led Zepplin's "Stairway to Heaven". As we ascend up, there is the sense of making our way towards enlightenment, towards fulfillment and towards our own destiny. Even metaphors that refer to "coming down from above" often are positive, in reflection of becoming "real" with the world and our fellow man in the journey of life. The citations are endless. But, internally, we can use the image to project a sense of who we wish to become by our ascension, and yet, remaning grounded by our descension. During quiet times of peaceful meditation, we look within our hearts to discover to which direction we really need to aspire.

For most of us, it truly does represent a balance. We need to strive to reach the top of the stairs to become our full potential, and yet we need to remind ourselves from where we came to keep us grounded and secure. In short, we need to find that middle step on which to sit, to think, to dream and to process which way we need to go next.

Stairs have not always been my strongest form of personal conveyance. On my first date with my husband, I literally missed the first step, and fell down a flight of stairs. I like to think of this less-than-graceful entrance as falling head over heels in love, but in reality, it's because I didn't have my mind where my feet were. While we do choose to aspire to reach our destination, whether it's up or down, we also need to keep a firm grasp on where we are, in addition to we are heading. Falling down stairs is never fun, whether they're literal or metaphorical. We can get ahead of ourselves, we can rush. We can find ourselves too immersed in the end goal to realize what we're doing until we topple, head over heels. Bringing mindfuless to the staircases in our lives can not only enhance our experiences, internally, but can save us from massive bruises, externally.

"The elevator to our highest potential is out of order. You have to use the stairs, one step at a time." ~ Joe Girard