You can tell a lot about a person by the shoes that they wear. "Where they've gone, where they're going..."
I'm walking down the street and all I see are New Yorkers covered with fall garb. Peacoats. Shawls. Boots. Leg warmers. Wool hats and scarves. Nowhere do I see light hoodies like I am wearing. Nor do I see calf-length leggings or flip-flops.
In Mysore, I remember how shocked I was to see a friend leaving. It wasn't that they were leaving, so much as there was something different, something changed. Shoes! They were wearing white, closed-toe sneakers! After days and days of seeing and feeling nothing but lightly sandaled feet, it was as if they had been living a lie and their true nature, their alter-ego was revealed to me for the first time.
Now here I am in New York, the only one wearing flip flops. It got progresively colder that day, so that every time I went outside, I wore another layer, until, at the end I gave in and put on a pair of "shoes". By this time, the bottoms of my feet were bruised from all the walking (thanks to the life a freelance yoga teacher), and by the very end, I had cuts on my achillis tendons. The next day, I hobbled everywhere, and the sandals went back on, but this time, I wore the chacos. They are orthopedic.
A friend from Mysore is in town now, and we laughed when we both looked down and saw the other wearing closed-toe shoes.
I'm walking down the street and all I see are New Yorkers covered with fall garb. Peacoats. Shawls. Boots. Leg warmers. Wool hats and scarves. Nowhere do I see light hoodies like I am wearing. Nor do I see calf-length leggings or flip-flops.
In Mysore, I remember how shocked I was to see a friend leaving. It wasn't that they were leaving, so much as there was something different, something changed. Shoes! They were wearing white, closed-toe sneakers! After days and days of seeing and feeling nothing but lightly sandaled feet, it was as if they had been living a lie and their true nature, their alter-ego was revealed to me for the first time.
Now here I am in New York, the only one wearing flip flops. It got progresively colder that day, so that every time I went outside, I wore another layer, until, at the end I gave in and put on a pair of "shoes". By this time, the bottoms of my feet were bruised from all the walking (thanks to the life a freelance yoga teacher), and by the very end, I had cuts on my achillis tendons. The next day, I hobbled everywhere, and the sandals went back on, but this time, I wore the chacos. They are orthopedic.
A friend from Mysore is in town now, and we laughed when we both looked down and saw the other wearing closed-toe shoes.
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