What To Do Next . . .

-->. . . after you get your socks on (see last blog-entry).
Get a pedicure.

I'm serious.

When you are wholly ready to remake your life, then each week -- each day -- you need to take a baby-step or two in the direction of your transformation . You need to move toward and into the life you are creating, laying claim to all that you desire and deserve: inner change . . . whole-body healing . . . a sustaining sense of purpose . . . a level of modest prosperity beyond just barely managing the rent or mortgage payment . . . perhaps the experience of childlike joy and adult-level success in connection with your sculpture or screenwriting . . . a new and enduring personal partnership or marriage . . . the ground-up construction of your little green dream house and studio near the mountains or ocean or both . . ..your own fair-trade import shop stocked with extraordinary textiles, basketry, and other indigenous objets d'art from artisans you work with in northern India and the Mayan cities of Guatemala . . . the 501(c)(3) nonprofit you will create to research and reveal the mystery of preventing scoliosis , , , ,

You can get there from here. But you have to start with you. The transformational process has to begin with that sense of genuine self-regard which comes from being centered within yourself: ready at any given moment to move your most important and pressing needs up pretty high on the old to-do list.

So, you did those final, trying contortions. Strenuously, out-of-breathedly, you got those socks on over that rough and ragged terrain. You willed yourself to ignore that one crazymaking little toenail that still felt half-snagged on the right-hand sock. You lay back, depleted and exhausted, assessing the respective aches in the relevant muscle groups. Faintly but clearly, you heard a distant, just-audible buzz or " b-r-r-r-r-ing!" from somewhere down the farther corridors of your cerebral cortex . . . .

A small-scale life-experience for sure; something you may want to write off as trivial -- but in reality, you have had another of those gentle wake-up calls you've been getting lately. The figurative phone most typically sounds softly, just once or twice.

Plenty of us have reason to ignore or postpone that subtle call to self-care. After all, many of us are caregivers for everyone else imaginable, from energetic toddlers to ailing grandparents. Most of us have trouble finding enough hours in the day, as they say. And a fair percentage of us are constrained by highly frugal budgets, supporting ourselves primarily via fixed and limited disability stipends. No matter. Your feet are important. Your comfort is important. Do the right thing. Make the arrangements. Get those tired, ailing toesies to a professional.

I confess I used to be somewhat profligate in this general area, back when I was a working professional with no clue what disabilities and disasters lay ahead, living in chronic unconsciousness of my increasing back pain not to mention my incipient deformity. Back in that land of Da Nile -- seeking something inchoate, I knew not what -- I blew a respectable fraction of my earnings on regular visits to my local suburban day-spa-type-joint for various types of body care I now do capably myself, such as regular hair coloring. That's not where I'm trying to steer you now. You don't need the endless aromatherapy foot soak or the New Age foot massage performed in time to mystical -pop-mantra-music. For a wonderful, more than satisfactory pedicure, try the local lower-than-high-end mall or the neighborhood storefront salon (making sure the premises are clean, of course, and the equipment thoroughly disinfected between customers).

Six times a year, I splurge on my own pedicures at Modern Nails, a mall-based salon managed and staffed by 8-10 hard-working Vietnamese immigrants who welcome walk-ins even half an hour before closing. At $22 per pedicure, this amounts to about about $3 a week. I waited a little longer than usual this time, which led to the whole wasteful, protracted, unnecessary hassle with my socks.

If you have a spine like mine, fused solid from T2 to S1 -- or if for any other reason you can not reach your toenails even with a clipper and have consequently let them go and are now struggling to put on your socks without hurting yourself -- it's definitely time to delegate.

This last time, I walked out of Modern Nails as if traversing a cloud of billowing silk. That was more than 24 hours ago, and my grateful feet are still thanking me. Buddhism and egolessness aside, my whole self is thanking me.

Take a tip from me.

Nurture your spirit. Nurture your whole organism. Nurture your exceptionally important feet.

Get that pedicure.