Wet Shoes
In the quiet of the middle of the night, I hear rain pattering on my roof. Invites of turning over and snuggling under the covers and enjoying nature's gentle melody that reminds me of the cycle of dry and wet, up-and-down, spring that turns into summer, fall and winter are considered. These last few days I’ve been waking early, eager to walk in the countryside of the south of France where I am staying. As I gently climb out of bed, I realize my shoes have been left outside and they are wet.
What does one do when their shoes are wet and they want to go on a walk? If I were not traveling, I might consider alternatives because I have them. I consider skipping the walk. I consider going in wet shoes. And ultimately end up drying them with a hairdryer and hang them out a bit to dry. And while they are not fully dry, they remind me that it rained, so I slip them on and slip outside. I move about and enjoy the sounds of the birds, the vineyards, ancient walls of dwellings, castles, and churches. The people are friendly, even when they recognize that I am unable to speak their language. We smile and pantomime to explain what it is that they have engaged me in to share. Clothes lines are abundant with hanging wash. The closest store is a 15 minute drive. There is quiet. The birds sing. The rooster crows. I slow down my walk to invite moments to soak in, just as the water is being soaked into the earth.
This bucolic life, yet with all the amenities readily accessible, naturally invites slowing down. This is juxtaposed with an intense desire to soak it all in. To feel the wind, the breeze, the crunch of gravel under my feet, absorbing the sight of the rows and rows and rows of sloping grape fields, the green and the earth. The crumbling walls of a fortress wall left to disrepair, the remaining walls of a castle, home inhabited, the recognition that life here began centuries ago, and some descendants of the same families live here in this little village of about 200 people.
The wet shoes are my reminder to slow down until all my decisions come from a place of body awareness instead of the mind telling me to do one more thing. The wet shoes invite me to consider options and then proceed as I am guided. This is all within a sense of my own being in this. The totality of my being is what invites me to be within and to absorb what is presented to me in the present moment; be it the bucolic views of the countryside or the shoes mud ladened with the gentle rain.
May your wet- shoe equivalent, invite you to pause and consider thoughts, actions and move out of habitual patterns.
All of this deepens, as I continue to rest in being called back to when I forget the importance of allowing thoughts to be but one part of decision making of choice awareness.
And this is in part, what invited me to develop the Feel to Heal series for, as I embrace the importance of accessing that which is within, wet shoes become yet one more reminder.
Today, in the moment, I decide.
Today the choice is to walk in wet shoes and into embrace the moist, wet air. Tomorrow the choice might be to stay inside and embrace what that presents.
Let your choices be made with your whole being!
I often get caught up in trying to make things happen instead of letting life flow. This song reminds me of allowing my path to unfold before me now.