Today I saw my feet for the first time in a very long time, as I was staring at them in yoga class. I notice that we never really meet our feet. It’s like they’re there, we know they’re there, but we have no interest in checking on them and the only times we notice them is when they hurt.
My feet looked a little unloved today, pretty much the same as the rest of my body. Dry skinned, with blisters and peeling skin, unvarnished and probably a little pissed off with me. ’You promised us a pedicure last week!’ they said to me.
’I know, but I had to get a haircut first’ I answered. They didn’t reply making me feel even guiltier. These feet carry me around all day and so much of my body tension ends up with them. They’re like my emotional dumping bin and I don’t even look at them most of the times.
Except for when I’m at yoga class. The same class that reminds me how to breathe properly because during the day at work I don’t breathe, I hyperventilate. The same class that reminds me of my lower back, my limbs, my neck and even my tongue. The class that reminds me I have a body I’m ignoring.
I don’t like that I’m ignoring my body, don’t like being in a rush all the time and eating as and when I get the chance to. The short work contract I have demands a lot of me and it reminds me of all the things I chose to leave behind. But I’m in transition. I still need money. I still need to rent myself out for a month or two. And that’s ok. As long as I stay focused on my goal and keep going to yoga. And I don’t forget about giving my feet a little love too!