A Journey of a Thousand Miles

“A Journey of a Thousand Miles begins with a single step.” ~ Lao Tzu 

Taken by the author

“I recently learned that in an average lifetime a person walks about sixty-five thousand miles. That’s two and a half times around the world. I wonder where your steps will take you. I wonder how you’ll use the rest of the miles you’re given.” ~ Fred Rogers

~2026 marks my 70th year on this Earth.

I can see and feel the dark and light of this slow, inevitable change.

The other day, I found a letter I had written years ago to a dear friend tucked inside my “life’s box”. In that letter, I shared my mother’s frailness and the concern of her being in and out of the hospital so often, with no healing in sight.

At that time, my mom had just turned 70. She was not physically and emotionally well and hadn’t been for years. She’d express to me at times that she didn’t feel needed anymore, that the phone rarely rang, and that after losing the love of her life — and many of her closest friends — there wasn’t much left for her here.

She was ready to leave this world.

My mom looked lost; being needed was all she really knew. That is how I saw her at 70 — pacing the floor of her small apartment, contemplating the world and asking God why she was still here.

I sat quietly beside her as she gazed out the window. At times, it seemed she forgot I was there. Her soft blue eyes mirrored the sky, but the delicate skin around them reflected a weary, broken heart.

Mom was petite and frail from years of riding the waves of what was expected of her and always putting herself last. She wrote down her thoughts but rarely shared them. She feared flying and never traveled; fear stopped her at every corner, and her world grew smaller as she aged, shrinking to the borders of her own town, and then to the comfort and safety of her home.

I wondered:
Is this what my life will look like at 70?

Fear and grief rose in me — for her, and for myself. I realized how closely our paths had mirrored one another in my life.

At 43, newly married for the second time and preparing to move to the East Coast, I asked her to come with us. I wanted to continue caring for her. She quietly but firmly said no. Then she placed her small hand on mine and gave me a piece of life-changing wisdom. She looked right into my eyes — the kind of look that means pay close attention — and said:

“Remember the way I have lived my life, the choices I’ve made… and do the opposite from this day forward.”

I was taken aback, my hand on my chest, not yet understanding what she meant.

She was wise to say this, though. She saw that throughout my life, I had quietly been following her patterns of putting everyone else first, afraid of making waves, which depleted her spirit and joy. And traveling was very scary for me, too.

Two weeks after I married, she made her transition from here.

And I became a new me.

My husband traveled a lot for his work. In the beginning, I rarely went with him. Instead, I started working on myself, forgiving myself and my past, and embracing the good and not so good that came from all those experiences.

I slowly learned how to bring ‘fear’ with me as I took steps of courage to venture out in the world around me. I then began to travel with my husband to states I had never been to. I brought fear with me on my walks in new places, even when it tried to convince me that something awful would happen. And when I’d return, I deeply felt the freedom from the courage that guided me, and the feeling of being proud flowed through me.

I remember one time, having a temporary cap put on a front tooth before we left on one of our trips.  When we got to our destination, we had lunch and while eating some delicious fried chicken, and one too many crunches, the cap fell out.😬

I called my dentist, and he suggested a special glue to put it back on, and they’d take care of it when I returned.

For some reason, the glue did not keep the cap on, and there I was, our first morning, my husband left for work, it was beautiful out, and I wanted to walk. But, when I looked in the mirror and smiled, I looked like a homeless person (not meanly). I told myself I had a choice. I could sit in this hotel room for four days or bite the bullet and go out and explore. Fear was telling me to stay put. It said, “Don’t bring notice to yourself, how embarrassing would that be?”

I chose to go and take that step out anyway — for me, this was huge. A few people who saw this space asked if I needed money to fix it as they reached into their pockets. I thanked them but declined the gift and explained what happened.😅 (Kidding, people didn’t try to give me money, but their eyes showed such compassion, that that’s how I felt.)

“The secret to happiness is freedom… And the secret to freedom is courage” ~Thucydides

Things got better from there. We started traveling a bit outside the U.S., and I was like a kid in a candy store…I never knew such beautiful places existed, and when a close friend asked me to visit her in Israel, I went.

It wasn’t a place my husband desired to go, but he said, "If you want to go, let’s make it happen for you." My boys were a mess — they could not believe I’d go by myself. I loved that they were concerned, and that my husband wasn’t.😍

I carried fear under my arm as it screamed and kicked as I got on that plane, smiling the whole way, and the experience — was priceless!

I wrote a book, even when others shook their heads in disbelief.

And every time an opportunity arrived to explore, expand, and experience something I once would have turned away from, I remembered Mom’s words — and did the opposite.

And my world has changed in ways I had only imagined.

So why do I share this with you?

As I approach this 70th year, this milestone, I no longer want to waste a single day, a single step — living small or afraid of what life is calling me to see — to share — to do. I don’t want to shrink from the experiences just waiting to be discovered.

I feel a stirring from within to embrace, embody, and step into the greatness of who I am today. I know I am great, kind, and powerful — because how could I recognize these qualities in others if they were not also alive in me?

Each step, each decision peels back another layer of fear and uncertainty to the surface. And now when those opportunities present themselves, I courageously step into my confidence, speaking my truth gently and sharing my wisdom openly.

Years ago, when I was challenged or unsupported, I would retreat inward — back to the safety of being invisible. That may have worked before. But aging has given me the courage and strength to be visible. Everyone has their own views. Embracing this helps me remember the importance of the freedom of our own unique approach to life.

When my heart asks to speak, and I let it, something profound happens. I feel deeply aligned. I feel free. I feel connected to the world in ways I never have before. And inside those moments, the child within me claps for joy because I chose to be fully alive.

To shine my light without guilt, shame, or excuses is a freedom I had never known. The world has become a place I now look forward to walking in.

This freedom invites — and sometimes demands — that I let go of what no longer belongs, what no longer serves, what no longer aligns.

And as I walk the miles still ahead of me, I choose to walk them awake, alive, and unafraid.

So, as I begin each day, stepping into the person I have always hoped to be — the person I was always meant to be — I am ready.

Thought to ponder:
“If you listened closely today, what step is your heart asking you to take next?”

“May this be the year your steps align with the fullness of who you truly are.”

©Terry Pottinger 2026

Happy New Year and a New You!
In Joy ~ Terry🦋

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