Timid Tenderfoot

I'm afraid I was a bit bold yesterday, and bit off a little more than my little tenderfeet could chew.

Feeling quite empowered by my hugely successful walk on Sunday, I thought I was ready to "step" out into the big world. I realized that not only were my soles not ready, but my mind wasn't prepared for the mixed emotions I felt and how to handle the questioning looks and comments!

Setting: OHMI in Waterford, which is Oakland Homeschool Music, Inc, the place where my homeschooled boys take orchestra and chorus classes. I have an hour to kill before I begin setting up the room and music stands for Beginning Orchestra, and it's beautiful outside.

Dilemma: As I don't get much time to myself since we've shifted to homeschooling, I prefer to take my hour in the peace of my car, where I can relax, listen to NPR, read, meditate, catch up on the news...you get the picture. However, I really wanted to walk barefoot EVERY day (that's me, setting lofty goals that I know I'll never achieve, then berating myself when I don't uphold them), and it seemed a waste of the sunshine to be sitting. I decide to kick off my Birkenstocks and journey barefoot.

Realization 1: Neglected parking lots are not a barefoot walker's friend. I barely had two confident steps in a row. I managed to suppress the "Ow!" that kept trying to surface. If I'm going to be barefoot, I must be brave! I began walking slowly. Lightly. Timidly. My path did not entail a straight line, but much like a rock climber must assess where the next best foot- and handholds are, I had to choose my next steps wisely. Sometimes I hopped, or placed only the balls of my feet down. I looked and felt ridiculous. What was I doing? If I could only make it to the road, perhaps there is a sidewalk where I can walk in better peace. I dodged gravel, broken asphalt pieces, debris (some of it dangerous broken glass), uneven heaving in the surface, and the occasional (gulp) bug. Yes, when I saw the grody bug that I could've missed and thereby squished, I did think that perhaps this barefooting thing would have to be reassessed. I called upon the glory of the previous walk to inspire me to continue. Then came...

Realization #2: I don't yet have the strength of character to be barefooting it in public. Car number one pulls into the lot--remember, I know many of these people, but only for the past few months...not enough data for them to not rule me out of my mind, or perhaps just a little off my rocker. The van slows down. I wonder how obvious it is to an on-looker that I have no shoes nor socks on. Well, this driver noticed. Oh no. Slowing down....slower....WINDOW BEING ROLLED DOWN!!!!! Shoot! Do they think I'm homeless? Penniless? Been mugged? I'm feeling a little--a lot--shy! Flushing cheeks that I hope will be interpreted as too much sun. "What are you doing???" comes a voice calling out to me from a face I gratefully know well. Phew--embarrassment goes down just a notch. "Oh, just going for a little walk...barefoot...you know, just something I'm trying to do..." and on and on probably a bit too much. I really can't remember what I said exactly, but it was along those lines. Being late for class, they hastened on their way with a friendly snicker, a shrug, and some comment like, "OK, weirdo" or something similar. I laughed...it actually wasn't a bad interaction. Wouldn't it be worse if they DIDN'T say anything, but kept their thoughts to themselves, drawing all sorts of strange conclusions which I could neither confirm nor deny? I laughed at myself.

I arrived at the road--no sidewalk. Well, I can't just stroll around the parking lot for an hour. I meander back to my car. Mission failed.

On the way, car #2 pulls up. It's my friend Mary, and I have milk for her from our co-op. I grab the cooler and meet her at her van, being quick about it, as I want to quickly bring it to her so she doesn't feel she needs to carry it across the parking lot, her being 7 months pregnant and all. No time to grab my shoes. I end up barefoot at the back of her van, and I can't remember who brought it up first, but we have the inevitable conversation about my feet. Knowing that she's not in a rush, I explain a little more to her. Then.....

Realization #3: I can use this blog as an excuse for my naked appendages. After I while, I add something like, "Well, I'm blogging about it," as if I'm doing research for a piece I'm doing--yes, I'm not above deluding myself into believing that I must continue this barefootedness for the sake of "my work", you know, like I'm a great journalist who must make this sacrifice.

Dilemma #2: I am proud that I make choices based solely on my own intellect, curiosity, and adventurous spirit. However, I am not always comfortable with not fitting in, and do worry too much about what other people will think. This tends to not influence my decision-making, but it still weighs on my mind.

Conclusion: I will continue to post, and you will continue to laugh at my crazy, jumbled ramblings as I try to reconcile the above dilemma. :D