Oh, my darlings. My strange appendages that sprout from my legs that serve me so well. How you support me and carry me and give me so much in my life.
My odd and sweet baby toes, so tiny in comparison to my other phalanges. They look as if they belong on cabbage patch dolls instead of my feet. Long, long, long, long, SHORT. That particular little piggy didn’t get any roast beef. And yes, I’m looking at you too…. My big toes that sprout unnecessary hair. Yes, yes. I wax my toes. Deal with it.
I do put you through torture. I force you into impossibly high heels, teetering about for the sake of fashion. Oh how I love to paint those nails and strut with you ensconced in stilettos or peep-toed pumps. I do adore the feel of being so tall so that I look down upon the tops of many heads. The arch in my feet elongate my calves. It places a sway in my hips and confidence in my heart.
As well, I run. I gift you Sauconys or Reeboks or Nikes or New Balance. I pound along the highway for several kilometres, ignoring your pleas for a moment of non-impact. Suck it up, I whisper to you, promising an Epsom salt soak to soothe your aches and pains. But how you have carried me! Thank you so much for those extra few hundred metres of push when you cry for mercy.
I ram you into ski boots, and ski from first to last chair. I hear your moaning, especially YOU, my left foot. That annoying numbness and chronic urge to flex finally ebbs from whimpers to shouts and by lunch time I concede to your demands and release you from the confines of my boot. I stretch and flex you, spreading my toes out wide to relieve this chronic annoyance. I hear you. I really do. And I thank you, again and again. That last run down Motherlode was so worth it, don’t you agree?
I take care of you. I soak you, I pumice you, I slather you in oils and creams and massage. I put you up at the end of a long day. I sometimes sit and stare at you, in awe of what you allow me to accomplish during the day.
I stretch you during yoga. You hold me up during asanas and I reward you with acknowledgment of strength. I do love to feel your connection to the earth beneath me. Namasté, mes pieds.
Thank you, my feet. For carrying me through thick and thin, through all the beauty of life. You are worthy of a queen’s treatment. I hope you carry me with strength until the day I die. Merci.