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Broken Feet

He walks on a path with his tour guide.

Where will the path take him? The tour guide is a wonderful companion, showing the man the beautiful plants, trees and mountains, the possibilities of the journey, the treasures of abundance and prosperity in the lands he does not yet know. 

HELP! He hears a voice cry. He turns and sees a woman broken on the side of the road, her feet are at odd angles. Busted and twisted, they look pained and sore. He must help her! 

I have the tools in my bag that can mend those feet, he tells himself. He must help!


The tour guide shouts something to him.

“This woman’s feet are broken because she bought shoes that were not good for her. Her parents bought her badly made shoes, so her body never learned to walk the way they needed to. So she bought badly made shoes too as it was all she knew. But it’s okay, a shoemaker is coming soon in perfect time. The shoemaker will make the most beautiful shoes, and the woman will know joy for the first time in her life, and her feet will be healed and mended, stronger than before.”

But the man does not hear his guide.

Her shouts are a barely audible whisper. Drowned out by his need to fix the woman’s broken feet. His need to help, to love and be loved was strong. His good intentions were loud. 

He left the path and went to the woman. She smiled. They became friends. She doesn’t expect him to fix her and yet he does, and she is grateful. He gives her bandaids and a kiss to the forehead. Her feet stayed broken forever.

All is well in his world.

The tour guide is out of earshot. He can no longer hear her. She is waiting for him down the path of which he has forgotten.  

He builds a home, finds friends and a dog. He drinks and takes in the vista of the nest he has made in the world. He knows success and puts a thing called money into a building. The cash takes him on many journeys in cars and planes and buses. But his seat is feeling uncomfortable. The roadside stop became an entire universe for him to dwell. It is safe. It is all he thinks he knows. The tour guide is no longer a memory, but a sense of deja vu.

The loneliness gets worse. Aren’t I meant to be somewhere? He asks himself, as he touches the wrinkles on the sides of his eyes. He has everything he needs, and yet he is empty. He believes he is alone. However, the tour guide never left. 

His sadness deepens and rejects everyone, he has not learned to ask for help.

He is not looking at anything, he is stuck. He calls out to God in agony. A  God the world tells him is a magician in the sky who can fix everything with a special wand. The stuff of fairytales and old wives. There is no answer. 

In a deep conflict, in the quiet of the space of the grass on which he stands in a forest inspiring him with a sad wonder, he has an inkling. Something inside calls him. It is the voice of the tour guide, the voice is getting stronger. 

“Why am I so depressed?” He asks. 

 “Because, my child, there are so many distractions” sung God into his heart. “What do I do now?” He asks. “I am your guide, but some of you must surrender so you can walk the path directly, for your heart to hear, your ears to know and your intuition to listen to my directions, you are blind, and now you will see, you were lost, but now you are found. Free will is yours to enjoy, but take my hand, and we will walk it together. 

For the first time, the man knew calm. He knew peace and the deja vu became a knowing. The next journey began.


We hope you have enjoyed our Fictionista from Kirsten Macdonald, please share it if you like it. 

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