SHOES!

They sit

quietly at the edge of a room,

patient, unassuming,

waiting.

Yet they carry everything,

every step taken,

every path chosen,

every place left behind,

every place yet to be reached.

Shoes do not judge.

They do not measure.

They simply hold space

for movement,

for becoming.

Money, people say, is power.

Money is freedom.

But shoes know a deeper truth:

without the ability to walk,

to move,

to carry yourself forward,

what is money

but a weight in your pocket?

Shoes are the threshold.

Shoes are the invitation.

Shoes whisper, go. Begin.

I remember the first pair I ever loved.

Ordinary, hand-me-downs,

scuffed at the edges,

but a delight the moment I laced them.

Too big in places,

pinching in others,

and yet

perfect

the moment I stepped forward.

It was not magic,

not spectacle.

It was possibility.

Through shoes we learn courage.

We learn patience.

Every journey begins with a step,

every step leaves a trace.

Some shoes carry joy:

dancing under golden light,

laughing with abandon.

Some shoes carry sorrow:

rain-soaked streets,

hospital corridors,

thresholds we wished never existed.

Shoes remember what we often forget:

the weight of loss,

the lift of hope,

the resilience of bodies and spirits pressing forward.

Money can buy the illusion of choice.

Shoes turn choice into action.

Shoes turn distance into progress.

I have walked in shoes too small,

pinching, unforgiving.

I have walked in shoes too large,

uncertain, wobbling.

And yet I walked.

Shoes teach us that movement requires

adaptation, humility, persistence.

They teach us

that no matter the path,

the step must come first.

Shoes are sacred.

Shoes are ordinary.

Shoes carry life,

the morning commute,

the night walk to clear a heartache,

the slow meander through streets

that remember your shadow.

If you ask me what is better than money,

I will say: shoes.

Not for brand,

not for beauty,

but for their quiet, unassuming devotion

to life in motion.

Shoes promise presence.

Shoes promise the possibility of stepping,

one foot in front of the other,

into whatever waits.

Shoes are the first witnesses to our beginnings

and the last companions at day’s end.

They carry us

through what we dare,

through what we dream,

through what we survive.

Shoes are freedom

measured in footsteps,

proof that we are here,

moving,

alive.

And in the end,

it is not the steps themselves that matter,

but the courage to take them.

Shoes do not walk for us.

They only carry us far enough

to meet the horizon

we dare to reach.

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