Shoes for Dancing

I have worn Birkenstocks for the last 40 years, sandals in the summer and some sort of closed-toe slip-on as a house shoe in the winter.

 

Like all Birkenstock wearers, I have experienced the sharp, shooting pain of accidentally stepping on the sharp edge of the comfortable valley cradling my foot. I know how dangerous that can be, since the immediate, fierce pain demands a quick response and can precipitate a fall.

 

In 2000 the Bone Clinic took me through a long list of potential falling hazards: don't climb on chairs to reach something (use a ladder instead); don't strew little throw-rugs around the house—they will trip you up; and don't wear Birkenstocks or other shoes that are awkward and/or might slip off your feet.

 

They weren't telling me anything I didn't already know. And we are all aware that falling is NOT what we want to do. (I was, however, struck by a friend's story that when her father turned 65 he took a series of Tae Kwan Do classes expressly to learn how to fall without hurting himself.)

 

Recently two-year-old Georgia came to visit, riding on her mother's hip. Although we are great friends, that day Georgia began playing shy, hiding her face, refusing to go to Nana. So Nana began playing the game. I danced away from her, saying "Oh no! NO, don't let that baby come near me! Keep that baby away!" And I shuffled backward until I bumped into the big chair and then began to shuffle sideways, away from Georgia. I was, of course, wearing my in-house Birkenstocks.

 

And the lesson for today, dear ones? You can't dance sideways in Birkenstocks. One of them stuck fast to the floor, thus failing to slide to the left, as I was commanding my foot to do, and the other shoe bumped into it. I was dancing, remember?

 

So over I went. The view I have of myself in general is more or less the same as it has always been: I am 15. All right, I am 25. I weigh what I always used to weigh. My body is lithe and graceful and responds quickly to stimuli (as in "Help! I'm falling!").

 

Well, that's an interesting image to bear in my mind, but it's far from the truth. When I began to fall I was aware, for the whole 90 seconds it took me to hit the hardwood floor, of how very heavy I am. Or at least how much stronger gravity has become over the years.

 

I went over, falling to the left, in an arc so graceful that everyone at first thought I was doing it on purpose. Nice to know I have retained a graceful move, even if it comes into play only when I am falling. I landed on the side of my elbow and the side of my knee, both of which hurt like the dickens. My head had come within inches (perilously close, is the term I would use) of slamming sideways into the oak coffee table. (I realized this only after I had been pulled into a sitting and then standing position.)

 

Many helpings of arnica and applications of Traumeel later, I was absolutely fine. I didn't even feel the residual shock that sometimes stays in the whole body. Arnica really works.

 

I was lucky. And I am open to suggestions for new house shoes. They must be comfortable and easily slipped on, requiring no shoelaces or buckles or other fasteners to slow me down. They don't have to be fashionable. But I must be able to dance sideways while wearing them, should the occasion arise.

 

 

Copyright 2012 Ann Tudor

www.anntudor.ca
http://www.scenesfromthejourney.blogspot.com