Whenever I need to get some perspective, I go barefoot.
I am spoiled enough to live near an ocean, yet a walk on the sand rarely provides a cure to the troubles of my mind and the weights on my heart.
Perhaps I am a glutton for punishment, but I particularly enjoy the ever so slight burn of black pavement on the soles of my feet.
Why, you ask?
It makes me run.
And somehow it feels as though I am running away from it all. From everything that hurts. Leaving it behind, just like the flip flops that live permanently outside my front door.
There's just no time sometimes, you see? Your emotions can sneak up on you so quickly, like burning black pavement on the soles of your feet. In an effort to outrun them, you don't even bother to put on your shoes.
You just run. But they just chase you.
The burn reminds you that they're catching up to you, they're right behind you, and you dare not stop running. Because if you stop, you'll get burned. You'll go up in the flames of everything you wish would run away from you instead.
So some days I choose to not wear shoes, to find out what it is I am running from.
Of what I need to cure.
