A couple days ago, I had an irrepressible urge to buy new shoes.

I know women who have easily over fifty pairs of shoes. They like to be able choose footwear based on season, occasion, fashion trends, mood, even simply based on wanting something new to wear.

I’m not one of those women.

I tend not to be concerned with changing styles and prefer to direct my money into almost anything else. Besides, shoes are often uncomfortable. If I find a pair that feel good, I will wear them until they’re close to disintegrating.

But, the calendar says it’s spring now. I’m not quite ready to slip into my Clarks (sandals) and enjoy the liberating feeling of wiggling my toes while my soles are protected. Yet, I deeply want to put my boots in storage.

I want to take fresh steps.

Besides baseball, which I love for being as much about openness as it is about competition, spring is a time for new beginnings.

January first calls to mind goals and intentions. The start of the year seems to be about setting a direction.

The March equinox (vernal equinox) marks the first day of spring and conjures up new possibilities. Shoots of grass rising up through the mud or more hours of daylight tells us that something new and fresh is settling in to our awareness.

Nature, itself, is an example of openness, of renewal, of starting over…of ALLOWING.

But first, it seems, in order to experience a significant reset, you have to release things that have been weighing you down.

It seems so common, yet somehow inadequate, to refer to my boots as weighing me down, but I realize it’s true.

Boots are heavy. Each step demands extra intent and force.

They require ongoing maintenance. Although water-proofed, periodic spray applications of Scotchgard promote long life.

My tie-ups require a long time to put on. Deep treads in the sole, require me to leave them on a rug when not in use so they can shed salt and water from my last visit outdoors. Just thinking about them tires me out.

Buying anything new is a shedding of another kind. It’s about releasing habits of not feeling worthy. It might be no big deal to spend a hundred dollars on a pair of shoes, but for too long, it was something I didn’t do unless I felt it absolutely necessary.

Shoes are symbolic to me. Shoes are symbolic of how you move through life. I often wear out the soles of my shoes. Maybe I’m slow to let go heavy beliefs I carry around. Maybe I’m reluctant to change the shoes I wear because I don’t like dealing with shoe salesmen or I don’t believe I will find a pair that fit comfortably.

But spring can represent a time to change my attitude.

I can give myself permission to buy something because it will enhance my life, not only because it’s absolutely necessary.

I can buy shoes or apparel that I can return within the week if I change my mind.  (Currently, I only make returns if I notice a defect or if I got the wrong size).

In so many aspects of life, I can exercise my prerogative to re-choose.

Taking fresh steps is no small thing.