I recall an art student in college, when I attended
many years ago, who made her own shoes. (For the
entire semester, she painted portraits of John Denver.
I think I counted six paintings. Each one was the
same.) It was rumored the young woman grew her
own food and lived without electricity. She made
her own clothes including her boots. When she wore
her boots to class, I tried not to stare at them. I was
so intrigued with how she got a needle through the
thick leather animal skin that covered her feet and
protected her from the harsh winter weather of the
mid-west.
Today, I don’t think much about cold, snowy seasons
and I don’t see many boots in this area either. In
Florida, where I live, shoes are optional. Flip flops
are the norm. (I once told someone I liked her
thongs. She twisted to look at her behind, gave me a
dirty look and walked on. To my embarrassment, I
realized you don’t call shoes “thongs” anymore. The
older I get, the more I am challenged to keep up
with the rules that society is changing on me.)
My favorite shoes have always been platforms. They
are the ones with a thick sole in the front and in the
back. I can gain as much as three inches in height
when I put on a pair which is helpful when I go to
the bank where the counters are tall, and I am not.
A couple of months ago, I bought a pair of
Birkenstocks. These are the classic cork-enhanced
sandals made in Germany. Recently, I was wearing
them. My day was not going the way I had hoped. In
order to feel better, I reminded myself to go back to
gratitude.
I stepped forward with my left foot and whispered,
“thank,” took a step with the right foot and ended
with “you.” I got to walking faster and faster while
muttering “thank you, thank you, thank you” all the
way down the sidewalk. I have dubbed the sandals,
“my thank you shoes.”
All shoes should be “thank you” shoes. Don’t you
think?
May you feel protected on your journey.
May you experience acceptance for who you are and
how you are.
May you proceed with gratitude and grow to trust
the future.
many years ago, who made her own shoes. (For the
entire semester, she painted portraits of John Denver.
I think I counted six paintings. Each one was the
same.) It was rumored the young woman grew her
own food and lived without electricity. She made
her own clothes including her boots. When she wore
her boots to class, I tried not to stare at them. I was
so intrigued with how she got a needle through the
thick leather animal skin that covered her feet and
protected her from the harsh winter weather of the
mid-west.
Today, I don’t think much about cold, snowy seasons
and I don’t see many boots in this area either. In
Florida, where I live, shoes are optional. Flip flops
are the norm. (I once told someone I liked her
thongs. She twisted to look at her behind, gave me a
dirty look and walked on. To my embarrassment, I
realized you don’t call shoes “thongs” anymore. The
older I get, the more I am challenged to keep up
with the rules that society is changing on me.)
My favorite shoes have always been platforms. They
are the ones with a thick sole in the front and in the
back. I can gain as much as three inches in height
when I put on a pair which is helpful when I go to
the bank where the counters are tall, and I am not.
A couple of months ago, I bought a pair of
Birkenstocks. These are the classic cork-enhanced
sandals made in Germany. Recently, I was wearing
them. My day was not going the way I had hoped. In
order to feel better, I reminded myself to go back to
gratitude.
I stepped forward with my left foot and whispered,
“thank,” took a step with the right foot and ended
with “you.” I got to walking faster and faster while
muttering “thank you, thank you, thank you” all the
way down the sidewalk. I have dubbed the sandals,
“my thank you shoes.”
All shoes should be “thank you” shoes. Don’t you
think?
May you feel protected on your journey.
May you experience acceptance for who you are and
how you are.
May you proceed with gratitude and grow to trust
the future.