After 13 years of barefoot shoes and only that, the Swedish rocks have finally broken me. I bought a pair of hiking sandals last week in Harnösand. At first it was like walking on clouds. I stomped over the pointy Swedish gravel oblivious to its sharp ambushes. There wasnât a rock around that could get me. But it does feel weird. My feet are not 100 % convinced of this new development. They are now strapped into a locked position where the muscles are deprived of their freedom. They cannot feel the ground. Slowly, they begin to adjust to their new environment. It takes a while before I get a reaction.
My sheer joy at the freedom of being able to stomp around carefree without a care for what might be lurking under my next step, is joined by a new sense of unease. A revolt might be eminent. The feet start to feel strange. They clearly do not like being trapped and restricted in this new prison I have so happily proclaimed as a safe place from them. At first they feel faintly numbish and I become subtly aware of the site of old injuries plus maybe a little strained where the straps of the hiking sandals close. The straps themselves are cushion lined and designed to never chap or hurt. This is a luxury prison I have acquired here for them! But after a while it is clear that the muscles miss their freedom . They long for the feel of the ground beneath them. They wish for movement and do not like being chained up like this. Sometimes the toes feel numb, like they are so stuck they have given up all together. And so in the interest of avoiding outright mutiny, I have reached a compromise and gone back to walking barefoot wherever I can and the barefoot shoes unless pointy gravel is obviously on the agenda.
To understand where my feet are coming from, I should probably explain about the war we had and the subsequent treaty that has been in place for several years now. We were indeed, at war. The feet were clearly winning. They inflicted regular attacks of pain, hitting out of nowhere every few months with no prospect of when this suffering might retreat. When things were at a high point, a constant painful awareness of their existence. As with anyone living in such circumstances, after a while you learn to live with it. I learnt to circumnavigate the pain, and often ignore it for significant periods of time . Of course it always caught up with me at some point in the day, but normal life was possible for the duration of the conflict. We went on like this for at least a decade off and on.
Several years ago, a peace treaty was brokered. I agreed to the following terms:
- Barefoot shoes only. Gone are the orthotics, high-heeled shoes and any footwear that restricts muscle movement. Muscles must be free to feel every movement and move as much as possible daily. (This involved a rather interesting and uncomfortable adjustment period, I cannot describe to you because I have long forgotten it! Like childbirth amnesia, we never really remember what it was really like. A practically built in feature. Mother Nature is smart. Why else would we ever volunteer to do that again!)
- Nettles and Dandelions in hearty proportions to be added to the diet and tea. (This basic requirement has led me to expand into many other green leafy requirements and foraging of all sorts from the wild crevices of my garden and beyond.)
- Avoidance of all wheat and most milk products, a demand also made strongly by my rebelling stomach.
- Avoidance of Alcohol, as much as possible. I used to have an amendment of .. âunless itâs worth itâ, but since the kids have arrived, this too has fallen off the agenda.
- Avoid coffee and sugar. Ideally cut out all sugar... we are still struggling with this clause... It is a challenge... I love coffee and chocolate⊠it is my great Achilles heal, what can I say.
- For years there was a no running and no jumping clause. However, since I have started Qigong, this clause has become null and void. I am still cautious, and not really a fan of running, but I can dance as much as I want to and the feet do not punish me later for it. Jumping has also recently returned to the agenda... still not a fan of running though. That may have less to do with the feet and more to do with the fact that I simply donât like to run!
In turn my feet agreed to the following concessions:
- Freedom of movement without punishment.
- Allowing for morning decent of the stairs with both feet simultaneously instead of carefully dragging one after the other while clinging to the stairs railing.
- Less awareness of them in general allowing for more focus on other life experiences.
I have to ask myself why this issue is only surfacing now? Are German rocks gentler, softer and rounder than the ones lining the Swedish campsites? How did I endure this problem in other years? It is after all by far not my first camping trip to Sweden? There are many curious questions arising here that I will perhaps never find the answer to. It is a Buddha case of practicing mindfulness and living in the here and now. Right now, feet and I are in negotiation⊠I sincerely hope we find our way!