The bottom line:
Letting my inner child come out and play, reveling in the experiences she presents me with. What a gift!
Having stayed indoors for a couple of days, recuperating from a head cold, when I’d finished my GoT-poncho and the sun was shining… I donned said poncho and headed out. I live just across the street from a lovely recreational area, which is a place I love walking in. (To the extent that I call it my office, given the fact that I do CoachWalks with clients there.)
Wanted a few more photos of the poncho, so I played around with the timer on my iPhone camera, finding a bench where I could –with a bit of luck– prop my phone up to snap a few.
Kept walking, reveling in the crisp air, the smell of fall, the colors of summer leaving, the moist grass and the rough texture of the gravel. Because even though I wore a coat, and my poncho, I’d opted for barefoot. Wanting to maximize it, taking every chance I get, and honestly, it’s not until the temperatures drop close to freezing that it starts to get somewhat painful to walk barefoot.
Came across a young couple with a toddler of maybe one and a half years. No more. Possibly slightly less. The little one was all donned in rain gear (yes, sun shining brightly a n d the occasional drop of rain) with sturdy waterproof boots, exploring the pools of water on the graveled path. Looked at me, step-step-stepping in a puddle, and I smiled. Walked a few steps, coming across another puddle, so I stepped in it, turning towards the toddler, and step-step-stepped in the pool of water, loving the feel of the water splashing about my bare feet. I looked at the child and smiled, with eyes and mouth. The toddler looked at me, eyes opening wide in surprise, taking in the fact that here was this big person, with bare feet, step-step-stepping in a puddle. Looking at dad, he/she was reassured by dad who said Yes, she’s doing the same thing you are!, winking towards me.
I bade them farewell with a nod and yet another smile and went my way, only to step in a patch of grass-turned-to-squishy-mud along the side of the path, having the mud squeeze its way most deliciously up in-between my toes, looking down at my muddied feet, laughing. At life. At sensations. At sunshine and rain. At freedom, of expression, of exploration, of norm. Bare feet giving me a very visceral anchor, in direct contact with my surroundings, a sensory gateway to f e e l i n g. There’s nothing quite like it!