Feet have been on my mind this week. I love “Dancing With the Stars.” In my mind I picture myself whirling and twirling with Maxim. I picture Bruno raving about my dancing ability and Carrie Ann being amazed that I can dance so well at my age.

As I contemplated and dreamed of “Dancing With the Stars” I realized that my first problem toward accomplishing my dream was my feet. Now I do not mean the fact that I have two left feet. After watching Cloris I knew it was possible that my two left feet could turn into two right feet. My bunion and my crooked toes could not hold me back. The problem is the high heels. How many women my age wear high heels?

I haven’t worn high heels since I broke my ankle three years ago. I think it has something to do with the word broken and fear. Easter weekend I decided to do something about my fear. After all I can’t dance in high heels if I could not even walk in them. I decided to wear high heels to the Easter service at my daughter’s church. I proudly put on my heels and delicately and gently walked across my daughter’s living room floor. I was a little wobbly but I made it.

The next step was making it out to the car. We walked out the door and I was informed that we had to use the car that was parked in the parking garage a block away.

Panic set in. I felt my toes cramping in fear. I ran back into the apartment and grabbed my loafers for the trek to the parking garage. There was no sense wearing my feet out on a parking garage. I wanted to make it to the real deal which was church.

We arrived at church and I made it into the pew on the arm of my son-in-law with no mishaps. Then I realized there was communion. I would have to walk to the front of the church in front of everyone! Hopefully they would take my wobbles for a condition.

I wobbled all the way to the front of the church. I felt like a little girl again playing dress up and wobbling in my mom’s high heels. What happened to the confident lady I used to be that loved to wear heels and could actually walk in them. Could it be called old age or just poor balance?

Of course, feet were a problem the day before Easter, too. I think feet were a problem for many people that day. We arrived at a Twin Cities park to view the falls and to take a hike. Unfortunately the hiking paths down to the falls were chained off because of construction. It plainly said “Path Closed.” Feet got everyone into trouble that day. It seems people that arrived before us let their feet get the best of them. Their feet carried them under and over the chains for the hike down the steps to the trails.

My feet tried to hold me back. They caught on the chain. Was it an omen? However my feet finally let go of the chain and carried me down the 101 steps after all the other people’s feet that had told them to follow the path. What amazed my feet was the fact that other people’s feet ignored the locked, metal gates at the bottom to the path under the falls.

Those people’s feet carried them past the “danger, keep out” sign. Their feet proceeded to carry them over the gate and down the path and under the icy falls. My feet behaved themselves at that point. There was something about the word danger that my feet listened to. Of course, my feet could have just been tired from the long hike and the 101 steps I had used to reach the bottom. My feet knew there were 101 steps back to the top.

We let our feet talk us into foolish things. Do your feet sometimes seem to control you? It was probably very foolish to think I could wear high heels again without some preparation. My balance is bad and I have not taken the time to do the proper exercises to improve my balance. It was foolish to try and wear heels again without proper preparation.

Although our walk down the paths of the park was wonderful my feet ignored the chains and signs that told us the path was closed and we were not to use it. My feet said “Well, everyone else is going down so it must be OK.” It could have been a foolish decision had the construction been a problem with the path.

At least my feet had the good sense to listen to the locked metal gate and the danger sign down below. My feet did have a little bit of a conscience at that point. I wonder if the path to the falls would have been as intriguing had the danger sign and the locked gate not been there.

Many times my feet think rules are for the other person. Because they do it gets me in trouble. Why do feet think rules are made for everyone else? Why is it when feet have been told to keep out they keep on traveling? Our feet leave footprints where they have been. Where would your footprints show you have been?

Wells resident Julie Seedorf’s column appears every Monday. Send e-mail to her at thecolumn@bevcomm.net or visit her blog at www.justalittlefluff.blogspot.com.