There was a book that I use to read to my daughter called, “The Foot Book”. It was written by that superb author, Dr. Seuss. The book recounted the author’s struggles of walking a block or two through life in his own shoes while colliding with a healthy dose of the other souls struggling with walking a block or two in their own shoes. This book had hit lines such as: “Left feet, right feet, how many, many feet you meet” and “Slow feet, quick feet, trick feet, sick feet, up feet, down feet, here come clown feet”. Anyhow, I read that book to my daughter so many times that I suppose it must have gotten stuck on heavy rotation in the subliminal part of my limbic system.
So fast forward a score, plus or minus a year or two (do your own math), and this is the kind of dream that my subconscious is capable of relaying to my current working mind….I don’t remember the very first part. It may have been important. I will let you know after the beginning of the start. There were steps involved. The steps got smaller and smaller as the dream became more complex. The steps will come in later, let us not forget. After forgetting the beginning, I do quite well remember the ending. There were shoes, one and two and I held them in both hands, hand one and hand two. There was a conflict, the shoes were hard to procure. But I knew I was dreaming and so I told myself to grab the shoe, reach the shoe! It was a difficult task that we have all grown into. Hold the shoe, grab the shoe! It can be so hard but then why and who knew?
I’ve spent a lifetime wearing an excessive amount of cheap shoes. From the first baby step to the most current comfortable excuse. So I tried to pick up that shoe, the first one with my right hand. It was so hard to grasp it but I told myself it could be done. I convinced myself that I can do anything and then I picked up the left one. Self gratification and a bit a dwelling on the aspects of each shoe’s specifications. Oh, the reflection. How I do remember northern winters with blades for the ice and the hot summers with open toes for the heat of the South. I reflected, I remembered how so many years walking in retreaded shoes can become bothersome.
But I fought for those shoes and I believed I could grasp them. It took a bit of a toll although I do pay may taxes but still get charged for some roads. So remember those steps from the second paragraph? I decided to head down them with my shoes and bring them all back. Descending the steps, I tried not to step on the children’s feet. The feet of the kids that were climbing the steps that I had not so long ago defeated. They were so young. They were just children with empty hands, matching shoes, and a guardian. How I loved them. How I hated them. I watched as they climbed their way up to where I was leaving from.
— That is all I remember of the dream from that night but I do still remember this from the Dr.Seuss book: “Small feet, big feet, here come pig feet. His feet, her feet, fuzzy fur feet. In the house and on the street, how many, many feet you meet. Up in the air feet. Over a chair feet. More and more feet. 24 feet.Here come more, and more, and more feet”.