Do you have a physical attribute that you hate? Maybe it’s your nose. Or your belly. Or your ankles.
Do you often think that if only you didn’t have this dreaded physical feature, everything would be so much better?
In my case, it was my feet.
I have enormous feet. Like, Big Foot big.
Here’s the deal:
In the world of feet widths, it starts with A width. These are the skinny-footed folks. They have feet like jackrabbits. They can run like the wind and have a penchant for carrots, but that’s another post.
Then we move up to the B and C widths. These are the middle-of-the-road people. Their feet are not too big, not too small. If Goldilocks saw their feet, she would say that they were Juuuuuust right.
And then there are the wide-footed folks. It starts with D, which is a tad bit wide. Wide enough to step on the feet of those As, Bs and Cs and do some damage. But not much. For some serious injury, we need to move up to the Es.
Now we’re talking.
With E widths, we’ve moved to the paddle-foot people. People who can swim like ducks and are not ashamed. (Okay, maybe they’re a little ashamed, but they can swim like ducks!! How cool is that?!)
We’re talking wide, but not freakishly so.
But what if your feet are wider than E? What if your feet want to bust out of the conventional measurements and boldly venture into wider pastures?
For these folks, we have EE. The double-wide. Like the trailer.
These are feet you can hear coming. They smack the pavement like it did something wrong. These people’s feet are the like the foundation of a house: strong, solid, and substantial. It’s almost impossible to tip them over.
But what if that’s not enough? What if EE fails to convey the full potential of your feet? What if your feet have an urge to travel into realms unknown by most mortals?
For those people – and this includes me – we have the EEEE.
That’s right: four of those suckers in a row. An E, plus an E, plus an E, and then – because three is nowhere near enough – you throw in one more!
For the 4E folks like me, feet become a different species. Our feet are no longer rectangles, they’re squares. We can flip burgers with our feet and live to tell. There are special isles for us in grocery stores, so we can pass the canned goods section without knocking everything over.
Oh, I laugh now. But when I was a kid, it wasn’t funny.
I grew up in a small town in Ohio, and my feet were so wide, I had to leave town to find shoes that would fit me.
In my case, I had to go to Elyria, Ohio. With full apologies to anyone who may be from this region of the planet, Elyria was a totally lame town. Maybe it’s really cool now, but when I was a kid, Elyria had nothing to offer. Except for a store that sold really ugly and really wide shoes.
My mom would take me to the Special Shoe Store, and I would pick out a piece of footwear appropriate for a troll. I would put my trollwear on my feet, and we would go home.
I always envied the other kids who could wear any kind of shoes they wanted.
If something was in style, they could wear it. They could go to the mall, stop at a shoe store, and pick out anything on the rack. What a concept! Oh, how I longed to be one of them!
But alas, it was not to be.
Then I grew up, and I took my big feet with me. I became increasingly comfortable with the fact that my feet could register for their own zip code, but I was still not completely at peace with it.
Until I discovered the spiritual path.
In the woo-woo way of looking at the world, nothing happens by accident. There are no exceptions to this rule. You can’t say, “Everything in my life has meaning and purpose, except for my out-sized feet.”
That’s not how it works.
So I began to look for a meaning and purpose to my continent-sized appendages. I didn’t find it at first, but I kept looking.
And then it happened.
I finally embraced my androgynous style and everything started to make sense.
Up until then, I found it extremely embarrassing that I could only wear men’s shoes. I saw it as a sign of my freakishness. Suddenly, in my new embrace of a gender-flexible style, my supposedly-limited shoe selection had a purpose.
The shoes that fit me best were the shoes that looked best on me.
Sporty, androgynous shoes to match my sporty, androgynous look! If I didn’t know better, I would say that Spirit gave me these feet to match my style. I would say that Spirit knew exactly what It was doing all along.
For those of you who are shaking your heads, saying: Spirit isn’t personal. The Divine has much bigger things to worry about than your feet.
To those people I would say: No, it doesn’t. The Divine doesn’t worry about anything, for one. And for two, The Divine is everywhere, and in everything. Including my feet.
I would also say, the same is true for you.
Remember that physical trait we talked about at the beginning of this post? The one you hate? I would venture to say that the Divine knows exactly what it’s doing. That the Divine loves everything, including that special trait of yours.
Indeed, there is undoubtedly a hidden strength, a hidden gift waiting for you in your dreaded feature.
It’s there. You may not have discovered it yet, but the Divine will show you in time.
Just ask my feet!!
What aspects of your body have you rejected? And what gifts have these aspects brought you?