We Are Enough

Have you ever looked at your feet and thought about
all the things they’ve carried you through?

Mine are not the smooth, unmarked feet of a young woman.
No, these feet have seen some things.

I wiggle my toes in the grass. The blades are lightly wet,
and the air is thick with humidity
and the throaty song of summer cicadas.

They’ve seen some things, sure.
But they’ve got a good look about them.
Tired, yes, but also like they know how to have a good time.

They’ve carried me through countless situations.
They’ve kept me safe,
running when I needed to run,
dancing when I needed to dance.

I haven’t always treated them well.
I squeeze them into shoes much too tight,
stand on them for far too long,
and rarely lean over to rub out the sore spots.

Yet here they are.
Still splashing around in this sidewalk puddle,
warm from the sun and
glistening with sky reflection,
tinged pink from the light of dusk.

Here they are. Still carrying me.
Still aging with me.
Still going through my trials like good friends.

Why do we ever think we aren’t enough for ourselves?

They’ve been here for all my favorite memories,
in all my favorite places.

Hiking the waterfall-laden trail of Flume Gorge one fall day,
with trees ablaze in gilded beauty.
At Biloxi Beach, the sand warm and soft between my toes,
as we slipped blue soft-shell crabs into buckets beneath the pier,
the tide rolling in with seaweed and foam.

I’m glad they’re old and worn,
scarred and wrinkled.
I wouldn’t trade them for younger feet,
not if those feet hadn’t lived as much as these.

Why is it so hard to be kind to our bodies?
They do so much for us,
even though we constantly ask them to do more.

Maybe they aren’t failing us as we age.
Maybe we’re failing them
by not loving them for all they’ve carried us through.

Maybe healing doesn’t mean chasing all new things.
Maybe it means learning to love what’s always been here.

Maybe we are already enough for our lives,
just the way we are.

Writing Prompt:

What old, worn, familiar part of yourself have you overlooked in your healing journey? How might you love it differently now?