From the Archive – Jan 2011.
There has been a development ….. I am sock-less; not quite unshodden I grant you but a step in the right direction to becoming barefooted. The funny thing it has suddenly become apparent that during my long and happy marriage with boots, a bit of a love triangle has evolved, with socks adding much needed comfort and security to the wedded bliss. Boot socks, walking socks, thermal socks, waterproof socks (honestly, Sealskin, they’re great) and often several pairs of socks at the same time! (One reason for this layered sock approach is that I suffer from cold feet, the other is that a lot of my boots are bought in the Sales and are not always the right size.) I don’t own a pair of sandals, high heeled, strappy or otherwise, mainly because you can’t wear socks with sandals and I have realised that, subconsciously, I like wearing socks as much as I like wearing boots. Even in summer I wear boots … and socks.
As I am planning to go barefoot any time soon, it makes sense that going unsocken precedes going unshodden; it is a completely organic sequence. One step at a time after all.
So in the last 36 hours I have gone unsocken in a pair of fur-lined ankle boots (easy) to meet a friend for coffee, fed and bedded down the animals sock-less in my steel toe capped boots (still easy though a bit cold) and taken Yogi for a long walk over the Moors, sock-free in neoprene lined wellies (also reasonably comfy – once I had actually managed to get them on!).
Earlier today I went to the gym and worked out naked in my trainers, well my feet were naked in my trainers I hasten to add. That too was easy and comfy and I have just got back from a 4 mile Yogi-yomp with my feet enjoying their new found freedom in my chunky and trusty walking boots. Again, remarkably comfy; no rubbing and no regrets.
As well as being very surprised at how comfy and content my naked feet are in various boots, I am also a little intrigued by the emotional element. Going sock-less isn’t simply just a step toward going unshodden, it is a whole new experience in itself, evoking its own revelations and shifts in energy and consciousness. I seem to be thinking with more clarity and dare I say, wisdom. I feel calmer and more focussed, more assured almost. I am seriously considering not eating meat any longer. Maybe its a complete coincidence or subconsciously linked to a New Year and all that jazz but I’m really considering it, like really not just maybe. Can giving up socks really inspire giving up meat? I’ll let you know.
Ironically, the only uncomfortable aspect of being sock-free so far is actually padding about completely unshodden in my cottage; Yogi has dog-napped my slippers so going without socks at home literally involves ‘baring my soles’. My devotion to boots means that I am in no rush to take them off when I get home; couple this with my aversion to hoovering and the result was a few random, little bits of grit and the utterance of my first unshodden expletives.
And I have to tell you, as I publish this Blog, Radio 2 are playing ‘Kinky Boots’ …
You know who often goes sockless in boots? Mr Atkinson! Praps you should compare notes… 🙂 Am also reminded of an old boyfriend who became very agitated if I wore shoes in the house of an evening… he couldnt see how I could possibly truly relax that way, to the point that it effected his own state too; not dissimilar, I imagine to how I would feel if someone came round for dinner but didn’t take their coat off. We are funny creatures aren’t we?
Looking forward to the next instalment!!
Cx