How To Be a Barefoot Walker
A casual’s guide to barefoot walking.
I wake up at 7 AM, write until 10 AM, and go for a walk. I leave my shoes in the shoe cupboard. Why? Because shoes are for wimps. Also, they’re annoying. Try barefoot walking instead.
It’s simple. I’ll show you how.
Step 1: Go to the Beach in the Summertime
Ahh. Nothing like sea breeze and a scorching hot sand bar to build those callouses. If you’re serious about going barefoot, there are two important reasons you should go to the beach in the summer.
One. As a barefoot walker trainee, you’re probably embarrassed about things like walking on sidewalks barefoot. The beach is a socially acceptable way to expose those piggly-wigglies to the wider world.
“I like being full of mystery and wonder, people always know I’m up to something but never know exactly what.”
― Nikki Rowe
Two. As a former shoe addict, you’re definitely not used to temperature blocks. A temperature block is defined as anything that feels like walking on hot coals. The beach is heated at a gradient: hot sand is a hop and a scream from cool sand. Worst comes to worst, you can always bury your sensitive toesy-wosies down under.
What, you thought this was going to be easy? Toughen up, sister. This hardcore barefoot walking regimen is only getting started.
Step 2: Walk Around the Block Barefoot
Finally, you’ve developed a tolerance for heat and mild social disapproval. You're ready for the next step: barefoot block walking. While you’re at it, take Fido for a walk. He’ll thank you for it. Plus, walking your pets is a good distraction from other things. Like how you’re violating the local neighborhood social contract.
“Most children have been cursed with parents who have forgotten the joy of walking barefoot.”
― Mokokoma Mokhonoana
Deep breaths. Smell that? It’s the smell of freedom. Sniff deep, sister. But not too deep, because you’ve just stepped in dog shit. Wipe it off and try again.
Step 3: Go Someplace Barefoot
Your local grocery mart. The kids’ Chucky Cheese party. A park with a bench. Somewhere you can express yourself through your feet. Because guess what? People are jealous. They’re looking at your feet and thinking, damn, I wish I were that cool. While you’re getting some much-needed exercise, the rest of the boring shoe-wearing world is developing barefoot fever.
“the sensations she was asking about were very pleasant; some of them were nothing short of delicious; but to know them one simply had to go barefoot. I could sense a mixture of envy and fearful reserve.”
― Richard Keith Frazine
People crave self-expression. You? You’re living it.
Step 4: Paint Those Peepers
Wow. You’re killing it. Rock those toes, dude! Seriously, I’m impressed. I’ve been flying shoeless for five years, and I still haven’t reached this stage of barefoot mastery. My roommate painted my toes dirt-brown for a week, but that was shoddy dabbler work. Real barefoot walkers paint in pinks and reds and baby-blues. And glue those little pearls that look like prayer rocks. You know the ones.
Step 5: Walk the Heavens
Ascend. Walk the clouds. Because you’ve done it. You’re there. You’ve evolved from a generic human being to a barefoot goddess. You didn’t use a single New Age gag to get here. No #spells, no Instagram voodoo, and most importantly: no shoes. You’re just barefoot you, and you’re beautiful. There’s only one thing left for you to do.
Tell me. How the f**k did you do it?
Walking barefoot is taking your shoes off and avoiding pebbles. It’s freeing. As a writer, I have a tendency to get stressed and moody. I like feeling the asphalt crunch beneath my heels and the grass tickling my toes. It’s grounding.
On the fence? Slip off the sandals. Walk around a bit. Who knows? You might just be a barefoot walker.
