# Steady Markers on the Road

## The Pull of the Next Stone

On a long walk through open fields, you spot a weathered stone every few hundred paces. Not grand arches or cheering crowds, just simple slabs half-buried in the earth. Each one whispers you've come farther than before. Milestones like these don't demand celebration; they simply stand, quiet proof of motion. In life, we chase the big ones—graduations, moves, new beginnings—but it's these humble points that string our days into years.

## What They Teach Us

These markers remind us progress isn't a sprint. They're not about speed or outpacing others. Instead, they invite a pause:

- To notice the wildflowers blooming nearby.
- To feel the sun shift across your shoulders.
- To breathe and say, yes, I've walked this far.

By 2026, looking back from this January morning, I've passed stones I once thought unreachable: mending old friendships, learning to sit with uncertainty, watching a child take their first unassisted steps. Each taught me that arrival matters less than the ground gained.

## Walking On, Without Hurry

Philosophy here is plain: honor the markers, but don't cling. They're guides, not gates. Plant your own if needed—a journal note, a shared meal, a moment alone with the horizon. The road keeps going, and so do we, one steady stone at a time.

_*In the end, the truest milestone is knowing you're still walking.*_