No Place like Home

The walk of life requires some places of surety and sound footing. There needs some protection, some cover in the walk through the hurt and fear layering the everyday path.

It’s all about the shoes.

You need to make your own. 

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You cannot wear another’s shoes- even if they seem to fit and look more fresh.  They will blister the soul… you will die with them on. Your shoes belong to your journey.

Such shoes are crafted by the pain of a specific life, in how one survives the losses, walks through harsh words and even self judgements. The fabric is rich in the blood of sacrificed wants and dreams- the binding and seams, though, sewn with Love, God-breathed and polished. This is what makes them strong enough to make the climb and last the dance.

Like Dorothy who trusted her shoes to take her home, there is a trust in the walk home, finding the ways and places of self knowing and healing– standing in your own shoes.

Women Who Run With the Wolves; “The Red Shoes” C.Estes. 1992.
The Wizard of Oz; L.Frank Baum. 1900. 

 

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