One of my favorite summer memories as a kid was constantly being barefoot.
No school + no socks = no problems. Bare feet seemed to serve up exactly what the doctor ordered: exploration, liberation, and celebration.
Carefully, I would navigate the street out in front of my home like I was traversing a tightrope, using the painted white line that marked “crosswalk”. Inside the two white lines was black asphalt - HOT LAVA. My feet, sans shoes, knew the way by heart. Arriving on the other side to dip in the creek behind my friend’s home. Or swim. Or lay on the grass with all of the frogs we had gathered in a terrarium. All while being barefoot.
Upon arrival back home, if I tried to sneak in the front door with my black soles, Mom would escort me to the side gate - “Out! Out with those feet!” Dutifully, I would travel the cool paved path that led to our backyard. Here, I found respite in the shallow steps of our pool. Wiping each little dark and dirty footprint, watching it disappear into the watery expanse.
Clean feet = entrance into the homestead of 694 Harriet Avenue. Half a century later, I still choose bare feet over shoes.
Recently I had the honor of walking across Panther Meadow on magical Mount Shasta. Prior to arrival, I knew nothing of this place except that Indigenous people gathered here for healing ceremonies. The women I traveled with understood the assignment of packing in hiking poles, drums, and intentions. I showed up (you guessed it) in flip flops and a summer dress.
As soon as I hit the trail, I took my shoes off to walk barefoot, and was hijacked by the ugly cry. A release I can only describe as a cocktail of equal parts grace and gratitude. As the tears fell, I faced the mountain, giving thanks and praise for her. I didn’t see this coming. What was this? Why was I so emotional? I have learned that sometimes it’s just part of the Mystery.
I used the back of my hand as a Kleenex until each woman found a place in our circle. As each took a turn, we drummed over her, wielding an intention to clear away blockages, pain, and anything that needed healing. If you’re thinking, “What a bunch of fucking hippies,” I would also be thinking that too.
After our ceremony, we traveled a different path back towards the car. Nature called, and when I went to lift my skirt and relieve myself, my OOFOS flip flops slid out from under me and broke. Fun Fact: I have had a pretty substantial case of plantar fasciitis for over two and half years.
I stretch (when I remember)
I wear orthotics (I think I should get a discount)
I chose comfortable shoes (goodbye wedge heels and stilettos)
Three days ago upon waking, I took my first step of the day without wincing in pain. Without clenching or seizing. My Plantar Fasciitis is gone. GONE.
Will it come back? Maybe.
Do I think it’s a coincidence? No.
Am I noticing the healing? You better believe it.
Sometimes things happen that we cannot explain - I have learned it’s just part of the Mystery.
Another FUN FACT:
✨Village Well Membership OPENS 8/1
💜HUGE DISCOUNT for LIMTED TIME
💓We circle the wagons for Self-Love Project first week of September
➡️Reach out to Michelle to be on the FIRST LIST - myvillagewell@gmail.com
Let's do this Love Sprinklers
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