Put Your Best Foot Forward

With sandal season coming to a close, bare-foot sightings will be few and far between. This past summer, for reasons unknown, I became obsessed with other people’s feet. I noticed the glittering pedicures on some, while on others, I noticed painful-looking bunions and hammertoes with digits going in all directions.

Ever since childhood, I preferred being barefoot. I dashed outdoors to fetch the morning newspaper covered in snow.  I walked barefoot through wet grass. I bicycled barefoot. I ran on sun-baked sidewalks without the protection of rubber between my soles and the concrete.

Over the years, my feet have taken a beating: stubbed toes, broken nails, blisters, calluses, and fallen arches. I’ve undergone hammertoe surgeries and cortisone injections. As if to add insult to injury, arthritis recently set in. Yet this summer, I seemed fixated on comparing my feet with those of strangers and acquaintances.

As I paid more attention, I realized feet tell stories about the people they carry. I found myself wondering about the lives behind them. Some look pampered and ready for a beach vacation; others seem like they’ve survived a lifelong battle. What choices led to glitter polish? Which families were able to afford sturdy orthotics?

My own feet, with their history of adventures and mishaps, have earned an occasional soak in Epsom salts, morning applications of eucalyptus salve (with CBD and CBG), and evening massages with Vitamin E lotion.

As sandals retreat to the back of closets, I feel a kind of relief. Cotton socks are a gentle mercy, a soft blanket drawn over years of wear and tear. Maybe this new awareness of other people’s feet is just another way of noticing how we all carry ourselves through the world.