Barefoot and Twirling

There are some places you come to where you simply need no shoes. They are simply not needed. They don't fit. The are uncomfortable. Not in marked size of a narrow heel, but in a manner of being. Every once in a while, you come upon a place that is so authentic, so real, that you want to soak it in as much as possible - and somehow.....shoes get in the way. Shoes most always get in the way, I think. Barefoot is simply best.

So I am here - in the midst of genuineness, trust, quiet, and surrender. Barefoot and Bare and Brave. Walking around in beauty and running my toes through the earth as if to say,

"Good Morning. Thank you for letting me share your presence."

It is a peaceful presence. I could hide away here. I think I will - if only for today.

"Good Morning, Lord. Good Morning."

There is an ant crawling on my bible.....he is an active one. I think I shall call him Charlie. Charlie the ant. I look up from Charlie the ant to see a lady who has also come to be at rest. She comes with her book in hand and is walking out to the cliff overlooking the edge of the mountains. I look down for a second and look up again to see her in movement. Twirling slowly. Truly. She is around 50 years old. Some sort of Yoga mixed with a surrendering stance. She reaches her hands in the air as if to welcome all the morning will bring to her. Her hands come closer to her heart in prayer. Twirling now again. She knows I am here. She must know I am watching her. No one else is around for many spaces. But she is not ashamed.

In her mind, it is she and her God. Together. Alone. One.

Her need to twirl outweighs her fear of judgement, and it is beautiful, I think. Somehow maybe that is what it means to be as a child. To love like a child. To believe like a child. Vulnerability.

It surfaces the most sacred form of Love.......and the scariest. A sense of loosing self. Maybe that's the point.

Father God of all of the beauty that is surrounding me. I pray a surrendered spirit. That you, above all, will be my God and I will be your servant. That my need to twirl to dance to simply Love you will never outweigh my level of embarrassment. Embarrassment. Father, my Lord. What oh what is there to be embarrassed of? That I love you? Embarrassed that a child loves her father? How could I?

May it never be so. May I ever and continue to remain:

Barefoot and Twirling.

Yours, b