Gentle Reader:

For me (and maybe a few of you?) today, life is the ceremonial walk on the beach, a pilgrimage I need to make. I step carefully --- the tiny white corners of shell I pluck from the sand blossom in my hands with a glacial depth of Beauty.

Let Grace wash over your feet like the warm waves as you walk, let the fine sand kiss away the callouses and scars so that you can begin to feel the texture of the earth beneath your feet again.

To extend the metaphor, we wear our shoes to protect our feet from that texture, from the sharp objects and sinking sands in our daily lives. Going barefoot forces us to slow down, step carefully and take note of that over which we might step without noticing.

There are those who never go barefoot, even in the soft carpet of home, familiar and safe territory. And those who never wear shoes so that their feet develop a layer of protective leather themselves.

Back to the beach. Back to the healing waves and the cleansing sands that renew our skin, heal our wounds, and wash away daily debris, leaving us presents scattered along the beach.

Love, Sophie

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