Shoes

There is a reason for particular expressions, like the experience named as waiting for the other shoe to drop, waiting for the next bad thing to happen.  Sometimes it is the sign of an overstimulated amygdala, the part of our brain responsible for the fight/flight/freeze response.  It is part of our survival mode, from ancient days. Sometimes it kicks in for good reason, sometimes it*s just that we*re afraid of something that will never happen anyway, and we*ve sent an incredible amount of adrenaline coursing through our body to remain vigilant on a perfectly lovely sunny day, and we miss the sand between our toes.  The amygdala is often our friend, it keeps us alive.  Sometimes, though, it keeps us from living.

This morning it seems I spend a lot of time

Waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Even when I finally walk barefoot

On the beach,

 Not a shoe in sight,

Instead of the sand scrunch between my toes,

Instead of the sight of wheeled seagulls overhead,

I listen to the weather report,

Feel the barometric pressure

Of imminent shoes.

Last night

Driving to the diner

It didn*t rain.

The sky threatened;

Looked like big gray bubbles.

The weather guy said high winds,

Pea sized hail.

When we got home it sprinkled

Warm rain.

The clouds dissipated.

I noted

There was still a ring

Around the full moon.

I was not awake but meteor showers

Were predicted

From  2 to 5 AM.

Today it looks like sun.

Today

There is a pile of my shoes

Around the writing chair,

My daughter*s shoes fill the entryway.

My husband takes his shoes off

Next to the bed

When he goes to sleep

At night.

I wait for the barometric pressure to change.

It signals the possible other shoe

Even though all the shoes I see

Are in pairs.