imperfect

At one time I couldn't stand feet. I didn't like mine and I didn't necessarily like others. The thought of rubbing on some one's feet grossed me out and I would have never, ever paid someone for a pedicure. It is quite ironic that I spend a good portion of my days roaming around without shoes as a yoga teacher.

I'm not sure where this paranoia came from. I mean, I grew up in Eastern KY and we don't even wear shoes there ;-) But somewhere along the way, I felt the need to cover my little toesies up. And I can't really think of a single reason why. I guess my little baby toes are kinda odd. If I'm standing up they bend in towards my fourth toe really, really badly. Almost to the point that they are lying on their sides. Aside from that I don't know. Maybe it has something to do with being a girl and growing up in a society that screams PERFECTION everywhere you turn. Actually I'm sure it has something to do with it. And as you can see, my feet aren't perfect.

But I've gotten over that. Yoga has been my biggest stepping stone in accepting me. Feet and all. I love that my feet supported me in running 26 miles in the Houston Marathon. I love that I can balance in tree pose, dancer pose, eagle pose and so on. I love that I can climb a mountain and dance up a storm anytime I want. These days I feel more and more comfortable in my own skin and it's just the greatest thing. I can't imagine anything better than roaming around in my barefeet. These days this simple act represents strength, freedom, acceptance, and love. Yes, Barefoot Works. Indeed ;-)

Click here to see the Self Portrait Challenge, the blog that inspired this post.