One of the most obscure yet delightful compliments I ever received came from Dr. Susan Casto, a physical therapist at Revolutions in Fitness, who did some hands-on work on my feet. She said, "Your toes are so individually capable. You could play the piano with them."
I quietly absorbed this stunning revelation. I had never thought about my toes in this way, or much at all. I was tickled to have their capability recognized, and my heart swelled with simple pride. While I can't actually play the piano with my toes (or even my fingers), I was thrilled to hear them praised in this new and fascinating way.
Intrigued by the notion of “individually capable” toes, I pondered the possible origin of their unusual dexterity. The answer seemed perfectly clear—regularly walking barefoot on the Earth.
I do part of almost every hike barefoot, unless it is rainy or quite cold. I love how it brings me into a direct and intimate conversation with the Earth. I savor luscious sensations I would miss if I kept my shoes on all the time—the tender softness of green grass, the springy aliveness of the forest floor, the radiant warmth of sun-kissed sand, the surprisingly delicious squish of mud.
Feeling these sensations with my naked feet dramatically heightens my awareness of what’s under and around me, which brings me into the moment and transforms how I engage with the more-than-human world.
I walk more slowly, quietly, and mindfully. I notice the small wonders of an iridescent blue beetle, a rare wildflower, colorful patches of lichen. I see and hear more birds and animals. I feel more connected with everything around me, and experience it more deeply.
Knowing that going barefoot is good for my health further enhances the pleasure. Direct physical contact with the Earth, known as “Earthing,” suffuses our bodies with negative ions and re-balances our electromagnetic energy, which has numerous benefits. Contact with soil, stone, sand, and water all have this impact. (Although the energy can move through clothing, it cannot travel through most shoe soles.)
Going barefoot isn't always comfortable, but if we start small and choose our surfaces wisely, the joys and rewards far outweigh the discomfort. It's a simple yet potent way to be more present in our bodies and with the natural world. Nadine Stair seemed to be speaking for me when she wrote, "If I had my life to live over, I would start barefoot earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall."
With love and for the Earth,
Kai Siedenburg
Our Nature Connection
