It’s the weekend and I’m at home, so I don’t wear shoes.
I walk in the forest without shoes.
I walk up to the neighbor’s house on grass and gravel,
without shoes.
I walk on my front porch, in my house and storage area
without shoes.
Without shoes in the forest my steps are silent. I move like
an owl.
Without shoes, I sense reality just that much more. That
snail I stepped on in my dark and Light temple yesterday? Not only did I feel
it, I heard it. I stopped and looked down at a Being whose life I had altered,
probably ended. I would not have heard it or felt it had I been wearing shoes.
Wait, Eric. You would have heard it.
No, actually I don’t think I would have. I was walking on an
overgrown gravel road that cuts through it. The shoes I would have been wearing
would have had just enough scrape in them to camouflage the tiny snap I heard,
and I never would have felt it, even wearing moccasins or my old Vibram 5
Fingers shoes that I loved so much. Instead, as it happened I slowed from
barely moving to stop and I bent down and looked at the tiny life. I don’t know
if snails sleep, but I am certain that at the beginning of the day, however it
starts for snails (snail coffee and donuts on the weekend, I would imagine), he
couldn’t have fathomed with his snail mind that his life would end in a few
hours.
So now you know: I held communion with a dying snail in my
forest of dark and Light yesterday, because I walked barefoot through it.
Today is different. I don’t get to stay home today. Today I
have to go meet up with a bunch of people and do some heavy work. Not wearing
shoes would be dangerous. I saw my cowboy boots in the corner and sighed. It’s
my footwear of choice when I have to wear something on my feet. I love my
boots, but they’re… boots. I walked over to the drawer under my bed and pulled
out wool socks, which are also my choice year round. They’re red and grey and
thick. I like the way they look and they make my feet feel the right kind of
snug with my boots. I pulled them on. My feet felt like they were in a couzy. I
hadn’t even realized my feet were cold.
I sighed. It starts.
What starts, Eric? You have something against warm feet?
What the hell is wrong with you? I mean, other than the fact that you sometimes
talk to yourself through your keyboard?
No, warm feet are nice, but I am getting into the habit,
more and more, of living close to my authentic self. (Muffled self-laugh, kind
of a snort, really, followed by, “OK Eric… socks and Reality… please… by all
means, proceed.”)
Well let me start by saying I have cleared things out of my
life, often at great personal sacrifice, that did not / are not resonating with
my soul. From possessions to people, if it’s not working with me, it’s out of
here. As I do this, it’s like how the sun burns away the morning clouds. First
a little blue appears, and then more and then more. It doesn’t happen all at
once. At first, you’re not even sure the clouds are going to part. Over there
to the southeast… doesn’t that look like more rain coming this way? But no… the
sun wins the day and by noon you’re napping under skies so blue you forget
there were clouds ever.
And my point?
The point is this: there is cold in the world. The earth
provides that. There is also rain, sun, clouds, blue sky. Insulating ourselves
against all things that could be termed uncomfortable is where all the wars in
the world start (removing religion from consideration, unless one could
consider “unknowing” a type of egoic discomfort – which of course it is).
Discomfort is a great teacher. Just as I mentioned above, I get to more fully
experience what it means to inhabit my human body when I carefully choose which
discomforts I can safely allow. I mean, I AM in control of that decision. I’m
not going to walk in front of an amorous bull in springtime to see if I can
outrun him in the name of defining my humanness, reality, masculinity, whatever.
That’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about allowing my spirit to get as
many messages that have their genesis in contact with the Earth as possible, as
long as they don’t disrespect or endanger the organism that my Soul possesses. My
body is a thing of the Earth. I suspect my Spirit chose to be here in this
place and plane. So why would I try to insulate It from the very things that
make life here unique? I also suspect that Creator allows for messages and
hints of truth to be communicated through contact with the Earth. This may be a
stretch, I have to admit, for anyone who hasn’t come to this conclusion on
their own.
For example, I want to share some very literal messages I
have received in the past few years as I’ve become a barefoot aficionado:
1.)
The faster I walk, the more my mind spins out
2.)
When I am barefoot in the forest, I barely
breathe out of respect for the stillness…
3.)
…and that stillness permeates my Being and allows
a feeling of Connectedness to settle on me like a butterfly on my heart. I
really like that.
4.)
Sometimes it’s best to sit –like when my feet
get sore or its too hot to walk on pavement (hint: pavement sucks) rather than
go everywhere all the time. There are limits to healthy mobility. I suspect
that if we listened to our bodies (feet especially) more, we would be home a
lot more often.
I really value these messages and I find that they pass the
test of experience for me. When I make daily decisions considering them, I feel
more self-love. My soul is pretty amazing, so self-love is in alignment with Truth.
That’s what I mean by that.
Other things I am experimenting with more frequently
include:
1.
Sunglasses: just a gut feeling that my eyes
don’t want to be wide open all the time, and that chicks dig sun and smile
wrinkles. Hey, I didn’t say I was perfect or that my motivations always involve
leaps in consciousness.
2.
Radio: Propaganda is great (not really), and do
you ever really pay attention to the messages that are pouring into your
consciousness and physical space through the glorious medium of music (or
sports talk radio for that matter)? It’s alarming. Put music to something and
it’s a part of me. Case in point: I can still sing tons of Mormon hymns, and do
at times, and I haven’t heard them for years. I can also “sing” Kid Rock’s
“Cowboy” nearly flawlessly given a karaoke machine and a few guffawing friends.
This cancels out the LDS part. And then some.
3.
Cars: The Universe broke my MINI Cooper, and
then my motorcycle. “You drive too much, dude. Go hang out at the forest when
you’re not working.” I am SO grateful to have accepted this situation! It’s
changed my life for the better. That snail may not think so, however.
4.
Fast food: Some is less-worse than others, but most
fast food doesn’t feed my body anymore. It fills my belly, but I feel like crap
after I eat it and I’m hungry again sooner than I should be. Do you notice this
in your life, too? My body is not only a temple, it’s an antenna. The better it
works and healthier it is, the clearer the messages I can receive. That’s worth
passing on certain types of food… usually. Except those Taco Bell apple
empanadas. Hey, they’re apple!
There are a few things I haven’t figured out how to live
without, like asthma medicine, a car and money, although the healthier I get,
the less of all three I need. And I am convinced that in the case of the
medicine, my food and lifestyle choices have a huge effect. The closer to
Source I live, the less of that problem I have. As for the others, I didn’t
create this system and culture and feel it is not time to leave it just yet so
I have to have money to live like I need to for my daughter. I live in the
boonies so I can feel place-peace twice a day, so I have to have a car.
I guess in the end, I have certain habits that insulate
me from the messages my body would send me. Since I started walking barefoot
out of pure joy of feeling, it’s taught me a lot about how this culture requires
nearly mindless insulation from our souls to even co-exist. I wasn’t sent here
to not feel. I was sent here to feel it ALL and then decide what to do with it.
I want to live like that. I have one chance in this place and plane. I want to
experience it, even when it hurts.
Barefooting helps bare my soul. Think I’ll take a quick walk in the wet grass.
