I have a little “Spring in my step” today. Against the better judgement of some (who may or may not have called me a dumb-ass), I left my house this morning in my sandals. Although the thermometer only registered a mere three degrees Celsius, I forged my way up the driveway to my car, my will strong and my head held high.
There are others like me. We don’t hold weekly meetings, although they would be fun, and we don’t have a 12-step program for our affliction. We simply do not like wearing shoes. If I had my way, I would be barefoot all the time. I don’t hold ill-will towards shoes but I find them constricting and uncomfortable. It is a rare sighting to see me in heels and a vision that does not qualify as remotely graceful.
I have been spotted roaming around the lodge in the summer while my sandals are tucked neatly under my office desk. I only begrudgingly put them back on when I have to go into the kitchen or the restrooms. If my feet are ever seen by an Esthetician the gasps of horror can be heard by people in the neighboring towns.
The freedom of being barefoot is something I have always cherished. Shoes seem like such an unnatural invention and always remind me of this clip from The Bird Cage.
What about you? Naked feet or shoes?