A reflection on courage, impermanence, presence
(Finn den svenska bloggposten > HÄR)
Introduction: The Traces That Shape Us
There are moments when life slows.
When the wind hushes just enough for us to hear something deeper—
not a voice, but a knowing.
You look down and see a footprint. Maybe your own. Maybe someone else’s.
A trace. A reminder. A gesture.
This blog post is a reflection on footprints—not only the ones we leave, but the ones we find. On the courage it takes to walk. The beauty of what passes. The power of being fully here. And the invitation to reconnect—with the world, with others, with yourself.
As summer reaches the Swedish coast, we will return to Tylösand— not only as artists, but as humans walking a shore that has witnessed thousands of silent stories.
This is a path worth pausing for.
Footprints as Acts of Courage
There is a certain kind of silence in taking a step that no one sees.
Courage, in its rawest form, is not about heroics. It is about presence. It’s about being there—with your doubts, your scars, your not-yet-answered questions—and moving anyway. Every footprint is a testament to motion. To a moment when you stood at the edge of uncertainty and chose not to retreat.
There is courage in leaving. In staying. In saying yes. And even more, in saying no.
Sometimes it takes all our strength just to lift a foot from the place we’ve grown stuck in. The first step out of grief. The first attempt to speak. The decision to try again—differently. These are not the moments the world celebrates, but they are the ones that shape us.
Courage is the muscle behind all meaningful change. It is the threshold energy that transforms reflection into action. In coaching, we often see this bravery in the quiet spaces—in the pause before truth is spoken, in the shaky laughter after insight arrives shares Institue of Coaching (links furhter below).
The famous Austrian Poet Rainer Maria Rilke (1875-1926), knew this courage. In his Letters to a Young Poet, he wrote:
“Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart, and try to love the questions themselves.”
A footprint doesn’t need to be deep to be meaningful. It just needs to be yours. Laid down with presence. With willingness. With whatever strength you had in that moment.
Reflective prompt:
What is a small step you’ve already taken that was more courageous than you’ve allowed yourself to acknowledge?
What new beginning might be waiting quietly just beneath your feet?
Footprints as Reminders of Impermanence
The tide always comes.
We walk anyway.
Footprints in the sand carry an honest truth: nothing lasts. And in that fleetingness lies a quiet invitation—not to grasp more tightly, but to live more presently.
Impermanence is not a flaw in the design. It is the design.
From Zen teachings we are reminded that impermanence (mujo) is not a concept to understand, but a rhythm to embody. They teach that letting go is not detachment but participation in life’s ongoing renewal. “Emptiness is not nothingness—it is potential” as shared in the article Everything is connected from the Musubi Acadmey.
Ephemeral rituals like Tibetan sand mandalas—labors of intricate beauty swept away moments after completion, reminding us that value lies in presence, not permanence, as shared in the article The dust that measures all our time in the Public Doamin Review.
There is also wisdom in how nature itself erases and rewrites. Andy Goldsworthy’s ephemeral land art exists in communion with the elements, destined to vanish and yet fully alive in its vanishing.
There is also wisdom in how nature itself erases and rewrites. Andy Goldsworthy’s ephemeral land art exists in communion with the elements, destined to vanish and yet fully alive in its vanishing.
As Oliver Sacks wrote in his final essay:
“I cannot pretend I am without fear. But my predominant feeling is one of gratitude.”
Impermanence humbles us. But it also liberates. If everything is in motion, then we are allowed to begin again.
Reflective prompt:
What might you hold more gently—if you embraced the truth that it will change?
What beauty can only exist because it doesn’t last?
Footprints as Markers of Presence in a Distracted Age
In today’s world, we move quickly—too quickly to notice where we’ve been, or where we are. Yet footprints only form when we touch the ground. They only appear when we slow down enough for our presence to leave a trace.
To leave a footprint is to say: I was here. I was awake. I paid attention.
That might sound simple, but in an age of algorithmic noise, being present is radical. It requires us to claim our own pace in a world that urges speed. It requires choosing awareness over autopilot.
Attention is a capability—a trainable way of interacting with the world, with implications for wellbeing, creativity, and collective intelligence, as explored by Institute for the Future (IFTF) .
The way we pay attention is the way we shape our lives.
The american author Annie Dillard, wrote:
“How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives”, as reflected in the Marginalian.
A footprint is a record of embodied attention. It doesn’t ask for perfection. It just invites presence.
Reflective prompt:
What space in your life needs a footprint—not of busyness, but of presence?
How might you begin to practice noticing again?
Footprints as Calls to Reconnect
A footprint is never just yours. It’s always part of something larger.
It holds the echo of those who came before and makes space for those who follow. It touches not just sand, but memory, story, belonging.
In an age that often separates us—by screen, by pace, by fear—footprints remind us we are
People have always moved. Journeys across land and sea mark hope, displacement, resilience, and search for meaning. Every step carries more than just weight—it carries history, longing, and possibility, as shared by the global coverage by The Atlantic.
The symbolic maps Carte de Tendre, a 17th-century allegorical map of human connection—imaginative tools for understanding our emotional geography, as highighted in the Public Doamin Review.
In coaching, reconnection is often a return: to values, to purpose, to relationship. The Institute of Coaching points out that leaders and individuals need to remember they do not walk alone—and that to lead is to listen, to feel, to relate.
To walk with awareness is to reweave connection—to the shore, to community, to something sacred and shared.
Reflective prompt:
Who walks with you—even when they’re not beside you?
What would it mean to walk in deeper relationship—with the world, with others, with yourself?
Returning to the Shore: A Summer Invitation
Each summer, the shores of Tylösand invite us back—not just to walk, but to wonder.
In this year’s selective exhibition, Footprints in the Sand, we return to familiar artworks with unfamiliar eyes. The same works, yet not the same viewers. We are changed. You are changed. And the footprints we notice now may not be the ones we saw before.
Some footprints are barely visible.
Some we try to erase.
Others we didn’t know we were leaving at all.
This exhibition is a pause—a soft space to notice.
To trace what remains. To imagine what comes next.
You are warmly invited to join us both Virtually and in Tylösand—
to reflect deeply, sit quitely, walk slowly, and let the artworks meet you where you are.
Because the footprints we leave are not just impressions.
They are invitations.
An Art Exhibition – Footprints in the sand at Transient Tylösand’s
👉 Virtual Art Exhibition Transient Tylösand / Virtuell utställning Transient Tylösand
(click on the picture below )
The art exhibition includes a song about Tylösand.
The dates for the physical art exhibition in Tylösand will be announced shortly. Read more about when via this link.
Further Reading & Inspiration:
- Institute of Coaching – On courage and relational leadership
- Letters to a Young Poet, by Rainer Maria Rilke.
- Musubi Academy – On impermanence and Everything is Connected.
- Public Domain Review – On The dust that measures all our times and Maps of Love, Coutship and Matrimony
- My predominant reeling is one of gratitude by Oliver Sacks
- Andy Goldsworthy’s ephemeral land art
- The Marginalian – On Annie Dillard, Rilke, and attention
- Institute for the Future (IFTF) – On Future of Attention Economy
- The Atlantic – On human migration, memory, and belonging and The praise of Journeys
Read the previous related Blogpost With Footprints in the Sand
About Novisali
Novisali, (alias Liselotte Engstam), is besides her roles as professional board member and advisor, a multi-media artist, with a curious, explorative mind and an ambition to learn and extend art experiences to current and new audiences using both traditional and new digital mediums. More information and exhibitions can be found via Novisali.com
This blog post was is also shared at the blog of www.liselotteengstam.com, with the artist name Novisali.