Mindful feet

About a year ago, I had my loft hatch changed.

You see, the previous loft hatch was no good.

The opening was small. So much so that I bumped my head more times than I care to admit. Plus, I fitted the previous ladder, and it was never quite right. It needed redoing. Properly.
 
So we redid it. Well, Dexter did. And it’s much better. The opening is bigger - easily enough that I don’t bump my head anymore - and it looks good.

There’s a downside, though. The opening is now big enough that one wrong step would see me plummet to the landing below. Perhaps further, if I got it really wrong.

The idea terrifies me in a way that probably feels exaggerated and disproportionate. Fortunately, that’s proven to be the case. So far.

The reason I haven’t yet fallen is due to mindful feet.

Mindful what? You might ask.

Feet.
 
Mindful feet.
 
It has nothing to do with bumping my head on the old, small hatch and everything to do with my fear of falling through the new one.

In practice, it means I slow down, be present and take time to think about what I’m doing. Quite literally - when I’m in the loft - I’ll say “mindful feet,” before I move my feet. Then I’ll look around to make sure that any steps I take are in the right direction. Then I don’t fall out of the loft. So far.

It’s not just for lofts.

You can use it in all sorts of situations.

Let me give you an example.

It’s Sunday morning and you’ve finally accepted that you’re awake. You’re not getting up. Not yet. First, you need a solid half an hour of convincing yourself that you don’t need a wee. You shift in the mess of pillows and tug at the loose duvet. A little turn and a small twist and… you freeze.

There’s an offensive ping in your neck.

There’s also hope. For now.

Slowly, you unravel. Soft. Wary. Mindful. But no. Dammit. You’ve trapped a nerve.

And you actually do really need a wee.

If you did want a positive, you could see it as a chance to practice mindful feet. It’s the angle that no one was looking for, but it’s there.

You know how it goes otherwise. You hold your head nice and still - in a way that isn’t painful - and convince yourself that everything’s fine. Then someone calls your name. Over there. On “that” side. You turn without thinking and blammo! There’s the nerve. “….”
 
With mindful feet, there’s a lot less blammo! You slow down and move deliberately. Consider your actions. Tread carefully.

At least, sometimes you do. Sometimes you forget and turn your head too quickly. Then you swear again.

You know another good time to practice mindful feet?

When you’re doing archery.

Which is no time for a pain in the neck. Though you might have sore shoulders in the morning.

In early March 2024, I joined the Poi Passion “team day” at Wild Heart Hill. It was a big sack of fun. People dressed like vikings and threw axes. There were shield walls, a birthday cake, and a fair bit of yelling.

And we all had a go at archery.

If ever there’s a time to tread carefully, it’s when people have bows and arrows.

Under the expert instruction of John from Red Fox Historical Archery, we were all quickly able to fire an arrow. By the end, everyone was loosing them off with ease and skill. Not surprising for the Poi Passion Fire and Circus Arts crew (the clue is in the name). But even I - a man who needs to remind himself not to step into the big hole that gave him access to the loft - was willfully and consistently hitting the target.

I put that down to mindful feet. Treading deliberately and with purpose.

Images by Mark Davies

It also pays to approach others with mindful feet.

As you tread through this complicated thing called life.

You don’t always know what someone’s going through. While you might disagree with them or their behaviour, you don’t have their experience or their view of the world.

If you approach them with mindful feet, you’ll get a better understanding of what’s driving them. While you may still disagree - and, so what if you do? - you’ll see a different perspective and you might get to connect with someone new.

Image by Kat Naish

As a parent, there are many times I’ve found myself one mindless step away from a painful plummet. And I’ve definitely taken plenty of wrong turns. Though, it doesn’t help that the loft hatch keeps moving!

It also applies to how you approach yourself. You might find you’re being harsh, even unkind, in the way you speak to yourself. Maybe you’re overstretching and burning out trying to meet someone else’s expectations. We all do it. It’s part of being a human.

If that’s you, think mindful feet. It might help.

If you slow down and look around, you can think about your next step.

If a (figurative) leap into the void is right, take a leap.
 
If it calls for small, gentle movements, move small and gently.
 
If you do it with mindful feet, you’re much less likely to fall out of the loft.

So far.

Header image - Cherry Collins, winner of the Wellderness Facebook Cover Photo competition, July 2022