Looking down at my feet

A friend recently told me to look down at my feet every day and wherever I am, to be in that moment. As I thought about her statement, I realized that I don't do this very often. In fact, I rarely ever look down at my feet.

When I looked down at my feet today, they were sinking in cool, wet sand as a wave of ocean water washed up over them. I am at the beach, one of my favorite places to be. While I am here, at this very moment, I am grateful. I am grateful to be standing in the warm summer sun watching the waves roll in one after another. The snow white sand glistens and I can't help but think of diamonds sparkling. Their silver shiny beauty captivating me and holding my gaze for what seems to be an eternity.

My feet sink a little deeper and the cool smoothness cradles my feet making me feel safe and secure. I stand without moving, afraid I'll break the spell I'm under. The longer I stand, the deeper I sink as the waves rush in and out around my ankles. I look down at my feet again and I can't see the tops of them any longer. They are buried in a grave of soft silt. I wiggle my toes and set them free, my feet are dirty but happy.

I walk along the shore and watch as my feet make prints in the sand. My toes are well defined but my arch is high and almost disappears. My feet are small and my steps are uniform. I try to walk in a straight line. Shore birds flit to the side of me, I watch them from the corner of my eye. It's hard to stay focused on my feet for very long, but I try.

The more I look at my feet, the less I think about other things. I am keenly focused on my present surroundings. My friend was right. If I look at my feet, I can't help but be present in the moment. And right now, I am far from home on a bright sunny shore listening to the constant rise and fall of the tide. I am walking with no destination in mind. I'm walking, just because I want to...I am here and I am happy.

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