Barefoot
Wow. It has been two years - almost - since I published anything on this blog. Two years. That is...it's left me speechless. I thought for sure I hadn't been that neglectful of this thing that I love doing: writing. But I have been. In many ways that count, I have been.
So I'm here tonight. No TV. No music playing. Just a breeze coming through my open window and the dulcet sounds of Jack, my adorably fat cat, who is acting as though waiting another five minutes for dinner is the worst of all humiliations and sufferings any being has ever had the misfortune to endure.
I am here, and I'm going to add an entry tonight. But I am not writing it tonight. I wrote it ages ago - a year maybe - and I thought I'd already put it here. Since we already covered that this is a false memory - which I'm prone to - I will add it now. I wrote this piece for a newsletter while working for my dad's church last year. I should have fed two birds with one seed (I'm a pacifist) and put the articles on the blog when I added them to the newsletters, but oh well. Gives me something to do tonight, right?
This piece is called "Barefoot," and I hope you like it.
"You learn a lot when you're barefoot. The first thing is every step you take is different." ~Michael Franti
When I was little--around kindergarten--my sister and I spent a lot of time at Suzanne's house. Suzanne was a single woman who lived down the road from us and had a daycare (of sorts) in her home. I really liked going to Suzanne's because she appropriately appreciated the genius of my artwork. Alison was less enthusiastic because of The Babies. This is not a neighborhood gang, though that wouldn't have been too shocking in that area. No, The Babies simply refers to like, two babies who also came to Suzanne's during the day. But they drove Alison crazy for some reason. The crying. The hogging of Suzanne's attention. Maybe a little of both. That's a whole separate article.
The main thing I wanted to mention about Suzanne is that I very clearly remember her feet. The woman never wore shoes. I cannot remember ever seeing a pair on her feet, nor do I recall coming across any in her house. I wasn't sure she owned any! And the bottoms of her feet suggested she did not: they were tar black. I cannot put my own dirty feet into bed at night; they have to be clean. But Suzanne must not have had this rule because one person simply cannot turn their soles that color in just a day.
I loved Suzanne but this one trait had me puzzled. I confess, even as a child, there was some judgment going on.
Now, in preparation for this entry, I did a little research on bare feet. It turns out that in the Middle Ages, women with bare feet would have been considered "loose." Big time. If Suzanne had lived in the Middle Ages, she either would have been in pretty big trouble all the time, or she would have completely debunked the myth. It's a tough call.
Bare feet also tend to represent a lower social or legal status. Enslaved people and those living in poverty are likely to be seen without shoes. Shoes went from being a protective measure to being a measure of status and wealth. Even now, the money people will pay for one pair of shoes can make me dizzy.
I actually kind of hate wearing shoes. As soon as the weather is warm enough to avoid frostbite, I am in my no-socks-required footwear. And I ditch the shoes as soon as I'm up the stairs in my apartment. My toes love freedom. They do not like sock prison. So I liberate them as soon as I possibly can.
Now, shoes do serve a good purpose. They protect our feet from weather and from abrasions. Although, I should note that I found studies suggesting our feet were healthier before the invention of shoes. They cause problems for our feet, ankles, legs, knees, and all the way into our backs. But for the day to day issues, shoes can be a help.
The trouble is that they also separate us from the world. They put a layer of protection between us and the earth. Heels even elevate us above our natural stature. And, if you ask me, we have a lot of things in our world that separate us from Our World.
So, to keep this article at "long" and not "interminable," I will sum up with this last thought:
Get your shoes off! It's nearly summer! Connect to nature and feel how you begin to become more grounded. Your feet carry the weight of you. They have carried you to and from loved ones, enemies, adventures, trials, and miracles. Free them from their shoe and sock restraints and let them dance in the wet grass (which is not an uncommon thing these days). Jump them in a puddle. Warm them on a sunny pavement or sidewalk. Squish them in some mud. Dip them in a stream. Bury them in some sand if you can get near it.
Connecting to nature helps us realign our own spirit vibrations and connects us the world around us. It's a good and necessary thing for us to do in the midst of our crazy disconnected lives.
Maybe Suzanne and her bare feet were onto something after all.
So I'm here tonight. No TV. No music playing. Just a breeze coming through my open window and the dulcet sounds of Jack, my adorably fat cat, who is acting as though waiting another five minutes for dinner is the worst of all humiliations and sufferings any being has ever had the misfortune to endure.
I am here, and I'm going to add an entry tonight. But I am not writing it tonight. I wrote it ages ago - a year maybe - and I thought I'd already put it here. Since we already covered that this is a false memory - which I'm prone to - I will add it now. I wrote this piece for a newsletter while working for my dad's church last year. I should have fed two birds with one seed (I'm a pacifist) and put the articles on the blog when I added them to the newsletters, but oh well. Gives me something to do tonight, right?
This piece is called "Barefoot," and I hope you like it.
"You learn a lot when you're barefoot. The first thing is every step you take is different." ~Michael Franti
When I was little--around kindergarten--my sister and I spent a lot of time at Suzanne's house. Suzanne was a single woman who lived down the road from us and had a daycare (of sorts) in her home. I really liked going to Suzanne's because she appropriately appreciated the genius of my artwork. Alison was less enthusiastic because of The Babies. This is not a neighborhood gang, though that wouldn't have been too shocking in that area. No, The Babies simply refers to like, two babies who also came to Suzanne's during the day. But they drove Alison crazy for some reason. The crying. The hogging of Suzanne's attention. Maybe a little of both. That's a whole separate article.
The main thing I wanted to mention about Suzanne is that I very clearly remember her feet. The woman never wore shoes. I cannot remember ever seeing a pair on her feet, nor do I recall coming across any in her house. I wasn't sure she owned any! And the bottoms of her feet suggested she did not: they were tar black. I cannot put my own dirty feet into bed at night; they have to be clean. But Suzanne must not have had this rule because one person simply cannot turn their soles that color in just a day.
I loved Suzanne but this one trait had me puzzled. I confess, even as a child, there was some judgment going on.
Now, in preparation for this entry, I did a little research on bare feet. It turns out that in the Middle Ages, women with bare feet would have been considered "loose." Big time. If Suzanne had lived in the Middle Ages, she either would have been in pretty big trouble all the time, or she would have completely debunked the myth. It's a tough call.
Bare feet also tend to represent a lower social or legal status. Enslaved people and those living in poverty are likely to be seen without shoes. Shoes went from being a protective measure to being a measure of status and wealth. Even now, the money people will pay for one pair of shoes can make me dizzy.
I actually kind of hate wearing shoes. As soon as the weather is warm enough to avoid frostbite, I am in my no-socks-required footwear. And I ditch the shoes as soon as I'm up the stairs in my apartment. My toes love freedom. They do not like sock prison. So I liberate them as soon as I possibly can.
Now, shoes do serve a good purpose. They protect our feet from weather and from abrasions. Although, I should note that I found studies suggesting our feet were healthier before the invention of shoes. They cause problems for our feet, ankles, legs, knees, and all the way into our backs. But for the day to day issues, shoes can be a help.
The trouble is that they also separate us from the world. They put a layer of protection between us and the earth. Heels even elevate us above our natural stature. And, if you ask me, we have a lot of things in our world that separate us from Our World.
So, to keep this article at "long" and not "interminable," I will sum up with this last thought:
Get your shoes off! It's nearly summer! Connect to nature and feel how you begin to become more grounded. Your feet carry the weight of you. They have carried you to and from loved ones, enemies, adventures, trials, and miracles. Free them from their shoe and sock restraints and let them dance in the wet grass (which is not an uncommon thing these days). Jump them in a puddle. Warm them on a sunny pavement or sidewalk. Squish them in some mud. Dip them in a stream. Bury them in some sand if you can get near it.
Connecting to nature helps us realign our own spirit vibrations and connects us the world around us. It's a good and necessary thing for us to do in the midst of our crazy disconnected lives.
Maybe Suzanne and her bare feet were onto something after all.
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