#barefootNtokyo
That first step always comes with the most apprehension and the most reward. The uncertainty of abstraction, or something so familiar that it floods memories to your soul.
Will it resemble the simplicity of mud between the toes on a rainy day in the garden, the beauty of a course tree to climb, or soft grass in spring? Will it contain the delicate intricacies of parched fall leaves, or moss below a dense canopy? Will it hold the boldness of coarse rocks beckoning exploration, or the weight of water that flows from mountain peaks? Will it hold the familiarity of warm carpet beside the fireplace at Christmas, or the relief of a chilled wood floor on a hot summer day?
With all of its uncertainties to be barefoot is to experience life in its most raw form, to live life with unhindered freedom. It allows you to fathom simple intricacies in what can become monotony.
To be barefoot is to learn from all moments.
Allowing the land to become a part of you as your feet absorb its nutrients. The little minerals hidden from the naked eye, but so necessary for life. Each place has unique nutrients to share. Specific to the soil and the history of it’s land.
To be barefoot is to walk in authority.
You learn to dust your feet of the un-necessities. The sorrows, hurts, and expectations that only seek to scar you. You learn to live in full expressions of joy and without fear of boldness.
To be barefoot is to solidify your identity.
That bit of you that will never be sacrificed. The you who, in a city of business suits and social expectations, takes off their shoes and socks to be barefoot once more.
So, grandma, don’t worry, it’s more of a metaphor, for now.
Because the first time I left out the ‘I’.
