People either love or hate their feet. There is no middle ground. There was a time when you didn’t even know you had feet. Then, one day, you put a toe in your mouth, and that was that. They became a part of you. When was the last time you looked at your feet? Do you have the same reaction towards your hands? Are they so different?
We only believe what we can touch. We don’t trust our eyes since they like to play tricks. We don’t believe our ears since they’ve heard so many lies. The smell is a fleeting sensation, a teaser. Taste is intimate. Touch, however, is contact without commitment. It’s a poke. A grope. A test. Perhaps that’s where hands and feet differ. Hands have a choice, but feet must commit.
Hands are suspended. Feet are planted. Hands explore, but feet keep us grounded. Feet bear our weight, the stress and the pressure. They also keep us standing. They keep us moving. They allow the other senses to experience new things. Every step is a commitment. Every step manifests your decision to move forward despite fearing the unknown.