Fifteen years ago these old walking boots carried me and my stepsons, our old dog and my ex up hills and mountains. Today I finally got them on for the first time since countless surgeries and went round the block in the rain. It was wonderful. For me, right now this is an epic expedition. Walking up to our iconic St Abbs Church from the road has eluded me for 3 years. It took a shove from an 11 yr old and a little patience, but I made it. These two thought it was pretty cool.
You must believe in the power of your old boots..
When you find the courage to tell the world you survived one of life’s mountains ; you might be jumping into an ocean, and you might be doing it alone.
But, somewhere in the ocean is an island
Somewhere on the island is a packet of seeds
Someday your seeds will bear fruit
Slowly a new tribe will show their faces
Always notice who saving you their best smile!
Someday your tribe will be the one giving support to each others
And you will know you helped them achieve that
Just because you may not have been believed or supported on your path, no matter how long it is taking, or who is with you, no matter if you read this alone, or on the other side of your battlefield; keep your boots where you can see them.
Know they fit you as perfectly now as they ever did, and their bashed toes only make them more distinguished.
Don’t throw away your authentic sole (soul) because the magazines tell you to revamp it for veganuary.