Black ReeboksI study my feet, shod in these worn slabs of leather, fabric and rubber. For some weeks I’ve pondered the state of my shoes, and my life. Running ragged from one property to the other, I am putting in plants at the new place, setting steppingstones in the ground, mowing down weeds, and, inside my building, dabbing on paint, screwing wood to the floor, setting tile on bathroom walls. I am a madwoman dancing, hair on fire, feet in flames.
Only today, when I sit long enough to smile at these shoes, tattered and gaping, lathered with sand, do I see myself anew. Today I will breathe. I will take time to appreciate what I have done. I will shut off the internal engine that seems always to say, “You’ve not done enough, and, besides that, are taking too long.” Today I am a woman, mad about life, in love with dreams, stepping up, bowing down, dancing to the beat of my very own heart.
Ellen Hamilton on May 8th, 2013 | File Under Ellen Hamilton | 4 Comments -