Finding Feet

Someone said to me today:

feet are good to control
feet can stand
feet can run to and from things
and feet can kick the living shit out of someone

And I’ve been pondering that. I lost control of my feet a long time ago at the tender age of 18, by allowing my love for someone else to drown out logic, reason and self. Every thing I knew was subject to change at the whim of someone else, and I could never predict what would change next. Like the girl who puts on the red dancing shoes, my feet belonged to someone else’s tune. And like the girl in the story, I grew weary and lost my will to fight against the dance.

Then unlike the girl in the tale, the shoes came off. And there were my feet again. Mine to control, solidly planted on the earth, naked and strong, carrying me forward to new adventures and beautiful days.

And they are able to kick the shit out of someone. But I haven’t tried that yet. I’m saving it for a rainy day when I am wearing good boots.