What does it really mean to stand on our own two feet? Until I sustained an injury walking El Camino de Santiago, I hadn’t given much attention to my feet, except to lament their rather large size. In our culture, we typically wrap our feet in shoes during autumn and winter and bare them, to various degrees, in … Continue reading
Not since my mother recited the “Little Piggy” rhyme and tickled my (then small) feet have I focused this much attention on my left pinky toe. At the moment, it’s not saying “weeee”. And, according to a senior Rolfing practitioner I consulted, it’s not saying much at all. Rolfing, unlike much of Western medicine, considers … Continue reading
Until last autumn, when I overused one of my tendons on the Camino de Santiago, I had never sustained a mobility-impairing injury. While people may say that I was lucky to be injury-free for that long, I often wondered if my fear of getting hurt prevented me from exploring exhilarating and risky pursuits. Maybe I … Continue reading
Arab men fill the airy and glass-walled lobby of the Royal Rimonim Hotel. They sit on upholstered chairs around low tables and play cards at this gleaming tower along the shore of Israel’s Dead Sea. Some rotate rosaries through fidgety fingers. Women in diaphanous white head scarves and black outfits cluster around other tables, drinking … Continue reading
I have disproportionately large feet. Contrary to the predictions of my heavily perfumed and amply cleavaged seventh grade French teacher, my stature never became commensurate with my outsized feet (and hands). She swore I would be at least 5’6″. Although I found her personality eccentric and her scent overpowering, I had faith in her prophecy … Continue reading
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