feet make life stories

Do you take a look at your feet – ever? Or maybe you only notice them when you go to fit yourself with a new pair of shoes. But do you really look at them? Do you notice changes from chubby feet as a kid to now with slender toes and narrow arch?

If only your feet could narrate a travelogue for you logging miles and destinations, at rest, and injuries.

I stole a quote from War and Peace. It struck me because our feet our responsible for treading what’s underneath them and amassing our life stories. “And each time he looked at his bare feet, a lively and self-satisfied smile passed over his face. The sight of those bare feet reminded him of all he had lived through and understood during that time, and he found that remembrance pleasant.”

I remember my first day of kindergarten. Mom had me dressed for success but it was my shoes that were really the center of my attention! My chubby feet were crammed into blood red Mary Janes where she struggled to pull the strap just to the first hole on the buckle. I stood still with my feet together and my hands folded in front while I posed for a photo with my heels brushing against the yellow marigolds in full bloom. Even though my feet hurt, were numb, actually, I had a smile on my face and a squint in my eye. I felt life was good.

I had a difficult time finding shoes to fit when I was a young girl. But it didn’t seem to matter because my little feet, whether walking, running or bike riding, were always very busy, taking me to places I wanted to go. I quickly developed a sense of adventure and a learned feeling of self-confidence.

As we matured, our growing feet took us to places outside our comfortable perimeters. Maybe at times, soaking our sore feet reminded us they’ve had enough, for just a short while. And then onward we would go.

I refer to feet merely as a metaphor for the vehicle that is inherent with all of us to create life stories. Our feet lead us through travels in our lives where pain or happiness would be felt through to the bottoms of our feet.

So when I do strap up my bare feet in a pair of sandals, I am reminded of what I have been through, how I have lived and where I am about to go. I smile at the anticipation of knowing what is yet ahead for me. And that memory is, indeed, pleasant.

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