Would you walk a mile in another person’s shoes? If so, whose shoes would they be?
A few years ago, I went to see a man who would take me back to a past life—my past life, to be exact. I was skeptical, slightly scared and after he invited me to lie down on a bed and closed the door behind him, I wondered whether I’d make it out of the house alive.
Well, I did make it out and I also got to walk in someone else’s shoes. A man’s rather large ragged shoes, along an uneven cobbled pavement in England during the 1800’s.
He/ I was a well-built man (which explains my sometimes masculine tendencies) and most surprising of all—I was white.
Suffice to say, I ended up in a prison, witnessed slave labour through a small grated opening in a massive stone wall (with no sign of an exit or entrance), I petitioned for workers rights, and later, came to be the head of a newspaper.
In my later years, I saw myself sweating on my deathbed with my wife by my side, until I transitioned through a moment of calm…
Death was not what I expected. In fact, it felt good.
While you’re sitting there thinking, “Man, this woman is crazy,” and although I admit to having an overactive imagination, I could never have concocted a story with the level of detail revealed to me. I saw myself age, I jumped between different locations, I was traveling in a time machine entirely in my mind, and all I needed was a guide to get me there.
My ‘guide’ never imposed ideas or made suggestions, but rather, asked open questions.
When I awoke, I was exhausted. I felt like I had lived a life, breathed the same air, felt the stain of their tears on my cheek and grieved for the wife I would never see again.
Maybe it isn’t a matter of whether you would walk in another person’s shoes, but a question of whose shoes have you walked in and how far did you go?
Style File: I’ve been making tracks lately in these canvas Spring Court high-tops. They’re a wider fit shoe and oh-so comfortable. They’re a unisex shoe and look great with basically EVERYTHING!