Meditating In High Heels

Recently I headed back home to New York City for a very special event. Jo Weldon, the woman who first taught me how to fan dance and founder of the New York School of Burlesque, wrote a new book called “Fierce: The History of Leopard Print.” Jo was doing a book signing and a burlesque show with some of my favorite performers of all time. I knew I had to be there, so I packed up my leopard velvet fascinator and hit the road.

Being back in the city after a long absence quenched my senses in a way I didn’t even know they were thirsting.  I zoomed in and out of the streets of Soho wearing a vintage black wiggle dress and bright white Keds. Femme Fatale on my body, Chantilly lace on my feet.

As I neared Crosby street where the event was being held, I pulled over to switch my footwear to something a bit more elegant. With pointed toes I slid my feet into a pair of camel colored, suede, T-Strap stilettos. These were really more of a sitting shoe, but I felt confident I could handle the half block walk to my destination.

I steadily strode the short distance to the show, but when I arrived, all I saw was a long row of garage doors. I pulled out my ticket. The event was being held at 126 Crosby St. I was at 26 Crosby street.

FACK.

It was just far enough to make walking in stilettos painful, but not far enough to warrant another shoe change. So I began my 4 block journey to the correct address.

When distance walking in stilettos you just want to get it over with, so my strategy is usually to walk at a brisk pace. But after just two minutes I was entering the red zone; pinched toes and burning in the pads of my feet - so I slowed everything WAY down.

I noticed things I never would have seen had I kept my blinders on with the Scissor Sisters blasting in my ear buds. Faces, places, colors and moments that would normally have escaped my tunnel vision snapped into 20/20 clarity. The fast moving city which holds herself like a tight bud began to soften and bloom around me.

When I finally arrived at the show, I was relaxed, open, and grounded. Because my nervous system had been tended to, I was able to enjoy the show from a state of total receptivity, the way a hungry five year-old devours a chocolate chip cookie.

May this be a reminder dear one, that you can meditate anywhere, even in high heels.

And that any experience can be savored more deeply through surrendering to the miracle of your senses.

Strutting and Savoring,

Mary