Sitting in my favorite chair on the porch enjoying the evening sun. The neighbor kids play hide and seek. Running barefoot, feet slapping on the pavement, racing to find that perfect hiding spot. Barefoot. What a feeling.
As a kid, the soles of my feet were blackened and calloused. I only wore shoes for school and bad weather. Going without shoes was natural. I kick off my sandals and look at my feet. Thinking of the many places they've been. The lines and scars; each tell a story. Memories come.
Growing up, summer storms turned our dirt road to mud. The warm clay oozed between my toes as the rain washed my body. The ditches overflowed as I splashed in the murky brown water. Up the road, the puddles were knee high where the ruts ran deep.
Ready or not, here I come, yells the seeker, bringing me back to present. Stealth-like, running on her tiptoes. Now she's farther away. They come out of hiding and race to home base before being tagged! Caught up in their game, I let out a breath as I see one, two, three of them reach the tree, home base.
My mind escapes the moment again as I slip back in time. I used to run barefoot. Grabbing the pavement with the ball of my foot, pushing off with my toes, landing gently again as my stride lengthened. The friction of the road against on my not-so-tender feet gave me one extra bit of power, propelling me forward as I ran hard. I could outrun about anybody, even the boys! They wore shoes.
Nowadays, I have to make a conscious decision to remove my shoes. Shoes are on my feet most hours of every day; slippers in the morning, clogs in the garden, slings to work, running shoes, tennis shoes, hiking shoes. I even have 'swimming' shoes! The list goes on and on. I think for a moment. Oh my, where has the barefoot kid from West Virginia gone? I have so many shoes!
My feet miss the feeling of dirt, wet grass, and mud holes. Connecting to earth; in a skin-to-skin sort of way. Outside, climbing the hills, jumping along the big rocks out front. Down the hill through the knee high weeds, I'd find my way to the muddy banks of the creek. My feet and earth - they were one. I was one with the earth. I was wearing earth. I was the earth. I felt grounded, connected, protected. I take a silent vow to wear shoes a little less often. My feet wish to celebrate and dance with Mother Earth once again.
I encourage you to kick off your shoes a little more often too. Wiggle your toes. Walk through a mud hole. Run in the grass. See your feet like you did as a baby. You might not remember this, but look at a baby sometime when they discover their feet, their toes! You did that too. Give your feet the gift of exploration without barriers, without shoes. Let them feel Earth once again. Remember that freedom?
Going barefoot is a fun way to get grounded. It is great if you can go barefoot outside, but inside is good too. In fact, make a habit of kicking off your shoes when you come in the house. When you do this, imagine leaving all your burdens with those shoes; not bringing them into your sacred space. Leave them, your worries, troubles, heartache, right there. Make it a ritual; kick off the 'stuff' when you kick off your shoes. Leave it all at the door.
My bare feet are so much happier. They are free! My toes are tickled by the grass as I walk outside. I linger to my garden, pick a fresh tomato and pop it in my mouth. Oh, Earth, how satisfying, how nurturing. The tartness in my mouth, the warmth beneath my feet; I am grounded.
Try going barefoot a bit more while summer hangs on. Feel Earth's energy as she massages the bottoms of your feet with her healing, grounding, power; her love and protection.
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