I think it’s universal that most, if not all people, want to be recognized in some manner. Sometimes, especially in abusive situations, people try to be invisible. But in my experience, even these people crave safe recognition.

Reflecting on this got me thinking how every person matters in some way. It also reminded me that every single step I take matters, whether it is a stride of two feet, an inch or even a step backwards. Every step I take matters and is part of what gets me to where I am in any given moment. Subtract a one inch step from my total and I fall short of finishing a trail.

Likewise, on a number of trails such as the PNT and the Florida Trail, I have seen firsthand how every inch of water makes a huge difference. In Florida an inch of water could make the difference between a dry pack or a wet one when walking in the swamps. On the PNT that small rise could prevent me from being able to safely get around a headland.

As I walked through huge mats of seaweed on the Washington coast I thought about how every single creature has a role to play and matters within a larger ecosystem. Even the dead animals I found on the beach mattered as their bodies are turned into food for other creatures. It reminded me that when I die I want my body to go back into the Earth, decomposing and nurturing other living things. Just knowing this helps me accept my aging, which is bringing me closer to death.

I wondered why we call seaweed a weed when in reality it’s a plant growing exactly where it’s supposed to be growing. On the Washington coast, I could tell I was walking on an incredible array of seaweed. I was impressed to learn that out of possibly 20,000 species worldwide, close to 700 kinds are found on the Olympic Northwest coast. In fact, according to one online source, the Pacific Northwest has the largest diversity of cold water seaweed on the planet.

To counteract the difficulty of walking through it, I focused on picking out individual kinds, noticing the variety of shapes and colors. Some, like bull kelp, were long tubular things. Others were flat ribbons while still others were feathery plants. They came in a range of colors from brown to red and green. I loved the colors of some. Others made my little girl really happy, because when I walked on them, they made loud popping sounds as the little pods exploded from the pressure of my step.

It’s ironic that as I’ve learned not to let many things that used to throw me off center “matter,” here I am writing that everything matters. I actually think both are true. I also now see that my reaction to what goes on around me is perhaps what matters most.

I used to get upset if I lost something, someone became angry with me, or when carefully laid plans fell apart. Now I try to lean into whatever happens, aware if one plan falls apart, something new will come my way. If I lose something, perhaps someone who needs it more will find it. Or maybe in the process of replacing the lost item, I’ll have an experience I wouldn’t otherwise have had. And if someone is upset with me, I try to look and see what my role in it is and move on from there. I no longer blame myself for everything that happens, and I’m much better at asking forgiveness when I do feel I’ve messed up.

Since bringing together my dissociated parts and healing my post traumatic stress I’m able to act rather than react on a hair trigger. This makes a huge difference in the way I view my life. I’m no longer tossed about by the sea or the wind. I now have my steady rock inside and can hold my place even when buffeted by high tides all around me. What a relief this is! It makes all the years of slogging through the pain from my childhood and the loss of my marriage worth it.

In the same way, every minute matters. A life can change in a second through birth, death or an untold number of events, joyful or heart wrenching. Just the movement of an inch can sometimes mean the difference between life or death in an accident. And a simple kindness can sometimes change the course of an entire life. On the last few weeks of the PNT, I encountered at least six people who had seriously contemplated suicide. I think it’s more common than we realize because people are afraid or ashamed to talk about it. Statistically talking about it does NOT make it more apt someone will suicide, and can in fact lessen the risk.

Unfortunately, many therapist are afraid to talk about it so if a client mentions feeling suicidal, they automatically get slapped into a hospital without any say in the matter. This can sometimes make things worse. The hospital sometimes helps but often does not feel like a safe space. In my life it has been the kindnesses of friends and strangers that has helped me transition from constantly suicidal to embracing life.

As I conclude this blog, I find myself once again reiterating that no one should ever question the value of any kindness they put out in the world. Even if it doesn’t seem like much, it could make the difference between life and death, and might have ripple effects into the world that you can’t even imagine.

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