Several years ago, in the aftermath of Hurricane Sandy, I wrote about the security I found in wearing my sneakers. What began as the easiest footwear for climbing steps in the absence of elevators and for traveling to wherever we needed to be became an accessory that gave me stability in the face of a rocky path and normalcy in the face of chaos.
Today, I am realizing that wearing no shoes at all can be just as powerful.
I come home from working overnight, and I know I am truly home when I
have kicked off my shoes so that I feel the floor under my toes, and
then a blanket above them.
I come home from schlepping groceries and retrieving children, and I
know I am truly home when I feel the cool kitchen floor under my feet or
the hot shower water on them.
I tidy my apartment, and mixed in with my head making the choices and my
arms doing the heavy lifting are my feet reveling in the feel of a
clear carpet and a clean floor.
I relax after a long day, or a long night, and no part of me is happier
than the feet, now unencumbered by socks and sensible/beautiful/(anyway
you slice it) confining shoes.
When I go out in the world, it may some days be a pair of sneakers that
makes me feel secure. But when day (or night) is done, there is nothing
that feels more like home than a pair of bare feet...