“Boy stop stepping on the back of your shoes”
The echoes of these words sit with me today as I recall former (youthful) days of hurriedly putting on my shoes to go outside or do an errand. Whenever I was in a rush I had this habit of putting on my shoes just enough to cover the front half of my feet. I would step into the shoe without tying them and crush the back of my shoe. (Though I was chastised for this, I want to say that maybe I was a trendsetter. I was inventing crocs essentially…I will get my lawyers on this immediately.) At any rate, this form of putting on my shoes was…uncomfortable. Whether I was in a rush to go somewhere or fleeing what was stressful behind me, the habit of “stepping on the back of my shoes” was a sign pointing to all manner of things within.
My mind moves to a day when grief had cracked me. In this sacred memory time seems to stand still as I remember the sounds, the sights, and even the smells. As I see myself clearly in this place I see the pools of tears streaming down my face and the zombie-like expression etched there. Grief definitely won the battle this day. Here I was trying to talk through my grief and anxiety and I was in shambles. If you were to see the wrinkled clothing, the slouched demeanor, and the audible sobs, you would know that pain was thick. If you kept traveling lower you would see something else; my shoes are caved in and I am in pain as my feet are jammed into them. I am not a child this time though, I am a grown man.
As we start a new week I must ask, are you stepping on the back of your shoes? I brought up my pain as a way to point to a habit that I picked up. This habit of stepping on the back of my shoes brings me discomfort. This habit grows when I am under stress. This habit intensifies when I feel that the weight of the world is on my shoulders and I don’t have time to figure it out. During these times I have to consciously take a deep breath when I go to put on my shoes. I untie the laces and remind myself that I don’t deserve pain. I remind myself that anxiety is not my portion and that I deserve tender loving care. When I step into my shoes I want to feel strong and supported rather than rushed. Where are you experiencing anxiety that manifests in small habits? How can you slow things down a bit to nourish and nurture yourself? We are all doing the best job we can with the resources we have been allotted. Love and light to you all.
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