These Boots were Made for Revealing
The package arrived four days early. Prey tell when does that ever happen? For a hot minute I was excited to open it, but of course my work took precedence. And while my day turned into dinner and then some classwork, I finally settled in to watch Sex and The City. After a few well-deserved quality episodes, I remembered the box on the floor.
I whipped off the blanket and reached for the scissors. Slowly I sliced open the perfectly shrink-wrapped gift delivered to my front stoop. I had splurged on myself. But only because it was long overdue. It was January 7th so technically it was still Christmas. And it only cost me about fifty dollars.
Something came over me. As I lifted the cardboard to look inside, subconsciously I took my time. Picking up the first elegantly wrapped boot I held the concealed item softly in my hands. I marveled at the care in the packaging that kept it in secret. The sleeve came off like a well-deserved winter hat and revealed a beautiful brown, crinkle-cut, faux leather knee-high with a hidden slight platform and two-inch wooden heel. It was beautiful.
How this cheap but practical New England yesterday look had me locked in a trance I’ll never know. But I liked it. I was dazzled by its character and charm. Frantically I looked for the used climbing socks from yesterday’s workout that I tossed in the basket of winter accessories. I slid on the boot, and it magically fit like a glove. The marriage between the boot and my foot was the perfect pairing. I could already envision walking together with a new sense of purpose down many sidewalks and isles.
The other boot completed the vibe, and I put on my coat to take the dog out to pee; careful not to scratch the bottom with the pavement knowing full well they wouldn’t leave my custody. It was like I had exposed a great superpower hiding deep inside my core for the perfect moment to be revealed.
Shutting down the house to go to bed I realized I didn’t want to take them off. They enveloped my every move with a strut that seemed to be walking ahead of me. The tiredness I had felt by yawning several times had all but dissipated. While the iron was hot, I floated into the spare room and opened the closet to find a blazer to pair it with along with something a tad bit unexpected. What continued in the next 45 minutes I couldn’t have predicted. Even with my ADD or OCD.
Everything I tried on seemed to have a mind of its own. I restyled the boots with my go-to white denim jeans. The ones I wear all winter. Not for the shock factor or juvenile defiance but because they seem to go with everything. Denim is versatilely unlimited. Like me. A little. I guess.
In a closet that seemed to be lifeless, I tidied up a bit after uncovering approximately 18 new outfits that I didn’t know existed. I was pumped. My new boots brought life into my spirit beyond my closet. They gifted me a renewed sense of confidence that seemed to be hidden just below the surface. They gave me a spark of extra oomph; mojo.
I’ve mostly experienced a fair amount of confidence throughout my life, but the new year had begun on a bit of a fearful note. I had just walked through two of the most difficult years of my life. After 27 years of marriage, and a little S, we both knew it was time for the big D.
What I knew my life to be was now completely behind me. And the year ahead was going to be like no other. What I yearned for was certainty. And certainty was the aura that these boots arrived in; basking in dark camel. Certainty and confidence oozed from my every step as I strutted from closet to closet. These boots were made to reveal a new path. Now I would be discovering yet even more layers of what I would be capable of.
Reinventing myself is not completely unfamiliar territory to me. The role in my movie was shifting and I was allowing myself to be in full-on surrender mode. I was falling deeper into independence in this go around in my human experience. And I was beginning to like it.
Push through the contraction is what my OBGYN said to me as I gave birth to my first child. And I have taken that metaphor with me to many life experiences beyond having babies. I woke up thinking about this new life I was giving birth to. In this world. In this time.
Continuing this stream of consciousness, I found myself writing in my journal that I do want to love money. Yes, dare we say that out loud. I want to respect those who have it and not feel a hint of resentment during the awareness. I want to make better decisions when it comes to money. Which I already am. I do feel confident that I am doing all that I am supposed to be doing by being me; and being in alignment with source energy. I’m on the precipice of the constant, steady, and unwavering. The well-oiled machine of my career is revealing itself anew.
Lately, I’ve been accepting wholeheartedly that it’s my “job” as an entrepreneur to feel worthy. To be worthy. To know that I am worthy. Worthy of creating a reasonable and steady income stream for myself and, dare I say, perhaps even a substantial one. It’s my “job” as an employee of God to heed the vibrations of my Boss speaking to me through the Holy Spirit. In this human life, I get to experience all that I am. I am worthy of receiving. I am worthy of the energy that comes through us; the energy we call money.
I’m so lucky. We are so lucky. You are so lucky. You get to be you. All day. Every day. And I get to be me. I get to drink my Rasa coffee each morning and feed myself with nutrition filled with love. I get to order a pair of boots online and try them on in the comfort of my own home. A home with a roof. I get to handwrite a blog just before bed because a pair of new boots got my mind flowing. I get to create businesses for myself that pull the passion right out of me. Passion that seems to seep from my pores as I walk about my world. My home is in Massachusetts, and my home away from home is in a little Peaceful Women Hawaii Retreat.
And now that my book has finally launched on Audible, I get to hop over to Amazon and order some new Jockey underwear because my dachshund ate out the crotches from one too many a pair. Life is good. And I’m walking through it in my new boots which gave me a new spark of mojo.