Sunday, 20 September 2015

Still Barefoot

The first thing I noticed, now that I was bare footed, was how fast I was walking. Why was I walking so fast? I had come out for a walk to enjoy the place where I was staying, but felt myself charging to the village. Why?

There is very little in the village. No shops, no people, just the church and an old museum of radios and Avon products (which you can arrange to see if you wish and I think I will before I go home) So what was the big hurry? Why was I destination focussed when this whole walk was about the journey?

I slowed down. Slowing down was delicious. It meant I got to see everything, hear everything and everything looked and sounded absolutely beautiful, almost technicolour. As if I had been living in black and white and by slowing down, everything was now in colour. Like when Dorothy opens her eyes in Oz!

And in being able to hear everything, I became aware of a heavy thud, thud, thud. And that the thud, thud, thud, was actually the sound of my feet banging into the floor as I walked. Why were my feet treading so heavy? There was no need for it. They were giving me a headache leave alone how they must make the earth feel.

I decided to walk really, really, slow and really, really light of foot. I imagined I were a ballet dancer. I held my body as if I were one and then I pretended that the grass verge were a tight rope that  I was walking barefoot as a trapeze artist.

Sometimes, I walked on the soft downy grass, other times on the smoothness of the concrete. Always with my head up and my shoulders back and no longer hiding myself from the world.

And in slowing down and walking light of foot and standing up to face the beauty of the planet  ...  I happened upon all manner of quite wonderous things ...

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