Walking around without any shoes, I tend to get a lot of questions. Or rather, I tend to get the same questions over and over again, so I figure that I can use this opportunity to kill several birds with one stone and explain myself once and for all. Also, it is fitting that I address the title of this column early on, which is no mere coincidence; my decision to go barefoot reflects a much deeper set of values and principles, which are paramount to a life of true contentment. Or perhaps I’ve just rationalized laziness into something grandiose. I’ll let you be the judge.
First of all, it saves time and energy. I never have to search for shoes or tie them. Now, you might be saying to yourself, “but it only takes a minute or two! That’s nothing.” For one day, sure! It’s not much. But how about over the course of a week? A month? A year? A lifetime? It really adds up.
Secondly, it saves me money. Because I wear my shoes less often, they take much longer to wear out, and I’m just generally less inclined to buy a new pair. Coupled with the cost of socks, I estimate my personal savings to be around $200 annually.
Third, bare feet link me more closely to the terrain over which I walk. Whether it’s hot or cold, rough or smooth, squishy, springy or wet, I am afforded the opportunity of appreciating an entire dimension of feeling of which most people aren’t even aware. As a result I tend to avoid gravel, I gravitate toward grass (SMU is famous for its lawns) and I absolutely love stepping on prickly rubber doormats; it feels great. Shoes deafen those feelings, and having experienced them for so long, I would never want to give them up.
Fourth, bare feet are healthier. Our feet sweat more than any other part of our body, and shoes prevent that moisture from evaporating, thereby creating the perfect place for bacteria to thrive. In the dry, open air, it is impossible to get smelly feet, or to contract any number of foot-borne fungi such as Athlete’s foot.
Next, it might seem counter-intuitive, but shoes actually do more harm than good to your feet, in the form of support-based atrophy. Without the aid of soles, our arches must support themselves, and like any part of our body, stress leads to the development of strength. So many people suffer from all kinds of foot trouble that could be solved by simply strengthening their feet through walking barefoot. Also, toes are free to expand to their natural breadth, thus preventing many forms of shoe-related foot disfiguration. This goes especially for girls in heels. Ouch.
Finally, shoes aren’t natural and are completely unnecessary for one’s day-to-day life. Human beings existed for hundreds of thousands of years without them, so your feet are no more meant for shoes than people are meant to spend over 40 hours a week in a cubicle. It just isn’t right. Feet are structured to have an incredible resiliency, and whatever tenderfootedness you might suffer from in the present only came about through so many years of wearing shoes. Had you been barefooted since birth, of course you wouldn’t need them. After just a few short months of barefoot walking, you’ll be surprised what your feet can handle and how much better you’ll feel.
My goal for this column is to write with a notable sincerity; I will never claim as true something that I know to be false, and I will always try to effectively share what leads to happiness in my life. This is not some flat academic exercise or debate. I will not argue both sides. I wouldn’t have spent the past four hours writing this if I didn’t see real benefits to walking barefoot, and for that matter, I wouldn’t do it myself. But I do walk barefoot, and I do believe that it improves my life, and I do believe that you can do it too and that it will improve your life. Not tremendously, but enough to be worth the effort.
Speaking of effort, I haven’t spent nearly enough time relating all of this back to this article’s central concepts behind changing one’s life, which are stepping outside of one’s comfort zone and habituation. Wisdom must be tempered by life experience before it can be understood, and going barefoot can be a simple way of helping you experience and understand the processes of change.
I’ll leave you with just a few tips: Remember that change, by definition, isn’t comfortable and will leave you sore. Remember that habits, like calluses, take time to form. Finally, never push yourself too hard because tomorrow is another opportunity for trying.
Just try going outside barefooted. Who knows… you might just like it. For more information, visit barefooters.org.
About the writer:
Keven O’Toole is a junior philosophy major and can be reached at [email protected].
