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My friend and belly dance student Maria, who also has a blog, sometimes wants to write about the same things I do about what happens on Wednesday nights at dance class. She was going to take a photo of the mysterious shoe, then saw I already wrote about it.

Last Wednesday, we had such an incredible, spontaneous moment just before our zilling drill practice that left everyone like, “wow, where did that come from?” Maria beat me to writing about that moment, so rather than rewrite the event; she tells the story brilliantly. 

You must read her post before you continue reading mine. The link to her blog post, “He had it coming.”

While discussing positive self-image, I thought about how much “hate talking” I do to myself about not having a size six body anymore. It’s still a hurdle to overcome and a big one for me, but I accept it more each day.

When Maria spoke up and told everyone about her father calling her mother every day and asking if she did her sit-ups, I stopped looking for a zilling song and said with lots of drama, “some guys just can’t hold their arsenic!”

That’s when Kathleen and I started singing the song “He had it coming” from the Broadway show Chicago. While driving home that night, I was smiling because it was such a great moment and interaction between Kathleen and me. 

Many years ago, before my mother had her stroke, my belly dance group was having our annual fundraiser, a belly dance show with not only all of us but many other dancers from VT and other nearby states. 

I asked my mother if she was coming to the show, I knew the answer would be no, but I always invited her anyway. 

The few times she did come to gigs in Bennington over the years, she came and slept through one set and left. She never came to watch me cheer at games and only came to the first night of our senior play, while almost everyone else’s parents came all three nights. It was as if she had lost all interest in me and the things I was good at.

When I was little, before she started treating me like Cinderella when I was nine, she would be excited to get me into my two costumes and do my hair and makeup for my dance recitals.

I took solo dance lessons and performed solo as well. She strutted around like a proud peacock after the recitals and always had a bouquet of flowers for me.

Back to that belly dance show, my mother walked in ten minutes before the show started. She walked up to the circle of dancers I was chatting with. 

I said, “Oh good, you changed your mind!” She replied, “No, I’m going to bingo next door and wanted to see what you looked like.” Disappointed, I said, “Oh, okay.”

Before she left, she told me, “By the way, you should wear that color lipstick more often; it doesn’t make your teeth look so yellow.” I thought,” lady, you are such a bitch! Are you even fucking kidding me right now?”

She said goodbye, turned on her heel and walked next door to bingo. I was furious and embarrassed she said this in front of my fellow dancers.

I said something like, “I can’t fucking believe she just said that! Oh, wait, yea, I can.” It was perfect timing for her to get a jab in since the show started in five minutes. 

I had five minutes to get my shit together before turning into a Sahidi Sister and dancing, the show’s opening. Then I had to turn into DJ Julz since I ran the music for the show and kept everything on schedule.

That’s my relationship in a nutshell with my mother. The moment was so awkward for everyone in the circle, and it affected my dance sisters about to perform with me. It is a painful memory for me and still makes me enraged.

When I thought about how angry my mother made me that night after reading Maria’s blog, I sang the Cell Block Tango song again but dedicated it to my mother.

“Some women just can’t hold their arsenic! She had it coming; she had it coming, she only had herself to blame. If you’d a been there, if you’d have seen it, I’m sure you would have done the same.”

When I read Maria’s blog post, when I got to the part about Kathleen and me standing next to a cauldron, I instantly had a soul memory from a past life with Kathleen; when we were, are you ready for it? Witches.

I mentioned in my series, “My gifts,” I was a witch in many lifetimes and promised I wouldn’t be in this lifetime. I also knew Kathleen and I had been together before in other lifetimes; I just didn’t know when, where, or what. Now I know one time, at least.

Because of Maria’s blog post, I immediately knew she was with Kathleen and me in that lifetime since what she saw was a soul memory watching us. Interestingly, all the people we have meaningful relationships with, good or bad, are part of our soul cluster.

We keep coming back with our soul cluster members lifetime after lifetime, helping each other learn our soul’s lessons. Some people are there to test us and try to make us fail, some hurt us because we deserve it from a lesson we didn’t learn, some push us along, and others help us succeed with our lesson.

A few weeks ago, during a journey, a beautiful female spirit guide told me I was here to help my mother succeed in a lesson, but we all know how that ended. I told her, “that’s too bad since I was hurt and abused for nothing then.” She immediately told me, “it was a business contract and not to take it personally.” Easier said than done, beautiful spirit guide.

I sent Maria’s blog post to Kathleen, and when we spoke on the phone, she thanked me for sending it. After I told her about being witches together a very long time ago, she laughed. We kidded that the next time someone asks us how long we know each other, we can legitimately say for centuries! Lol.

Thanks, Maria, for your blog post; it had a much more significant impact on me than I thought when I first started reading it. I told Maria a while back I want to dance with her around a bonfire, which she and Jon always have during the full moon; now I know we probably have before!

I walked into the Old Mill building on Wednesday afternoon and laughed while gasping, “shoe is gone!”

I wrote a piece a couple of weeks ago titled The Mysterious Black Shoe, which I heard from many people that they had never heard of hidden shoes before and how interesting it was. 

Before I started my dance class, we discussed the shoe; funny enough, everyone else noticed it was gone. 

That being said, it wasn’t the case of who lost the shoe; it was about what the lost shoe meant to the people who noticed it or “found” it. 

For me, it was that I found a  new idea and took a big step in my writing career. 

For a couple of my dance sisters, it also had different meanings, indicating new paths for them to follow. 

So is that in the lost shoe saga? Maybe or maybe not; only time will tell. 

I have a few food posts to write; hopefully, I can do it in the next few days. Time is going by faster and faster, and there aren’t enough hours in the day to accomplish everything I wish to.

We’ve all seen a single shoe on the side of a highway or maybe in a parking lot. Before I wrote this piece, I had no idea how big a phenomenon a single shoe left behind is.

People have been finding”concealed shoes” for centuries in Europe. People have very different thoughts regarding concealed shoes, depending on who you talk to. 

Different countries and religious beliefs come into play when discussing concealed shoes. Concealed shoes are found in the walls of castles, churches, chapels, homes, and other buildings. 

Homeowners here in the states renovating their homes are also finding a single shoe in their walls or hidden in basements. 

These shoes may not always be concealed but hidden. Some are found up on shelves or windowsills right there in the open. But why? Some people believe on a spiritual level that losing a shoe is good luck for several reasons.

The first reason is protection. Shoes protect the feet from harm, cold or hot, and bug bites. Shoes make walking easier in rough terrain. Some say that leaving a shoe in a building or home protects it or the people who live there.

Losing a shoe can represent freedom. Freedom to walk on a new path in life or away from something negative. Some people think losing a shoe is a sign to travel or a new opportunity is waiting. 

Others believe losing a shoe can be a bad omen or not being fully in control of one’s life or what path to take. It may also mean you cannot handle a problem you face.

A person who loses a shoe may have been in danger or been running away from a crime scene. There have been many lost shoes found at crime scenes. Missing shoes became clues that later lead to the capture of many criminals and murders.

Our belly dance space is in an old mill building in Bennington, VT, which now houses many businesses. I love people are rehabbing old buildings instead of leaving them empty and eventually becoming eye sores.

Businesses such as gyms, doctor’s offices, retail businesses, creative spaces, and business offices. The building is in rough shape and not necessarily nice in the hallways and stairwells. 

The hallways and stairs are dark and dingy; the public bathroom is literally a shit hole. The business owners renovate their rented spaces to fit their needs. We have two gorgeous new bathrooms in the space where we dance, called Time for Yourself.

In true Irish fashion, telling a long story before the story, the point of my post, in late November, Kathleen and I noticed a black high heel shoe at the entrance of the Mill building at the bottom of the staircase. 

“Kathleen said, “There must have been a wild party; someone lost their shoe.” I replied, “No if it were a wild party, there would be a pair of panties too.” “True,” Kathleen agreed. Lol.

We saw the shoe every week, then right before Christmas, it disappeared. I thought someone must have finally found their shoe. Kathleen did too, but we never discussed it.

Yesterday, we both gasped, “The shoe is back!” It was proudly displayed on a wooden box at the bottom of the staircase. 

Kathleen shared with me her theory of the black shoe.”It’s a signal for something or someone.” “You mean like, ‘come up and see me sometime,’ as May West said. “Could be,” Kathleen said. 

Then I started thinking of different scenarios of why the shoe was there in the first place. It could have fallen out of someone’s gym bag. That’s a good guess. 

Many people come straight from work to the gym, but after living in Vermont for 30+ years, I know that hardly anyone wears high heels to work. Even getting dressed up super fancy, requiring high heel shoes, is a rarity. Medium heels, yes, those are doable.

I found out quickly when we moved here that the sidewalks and parking lots are unlike in metropolitan areas; if you wear high heels, you are sure to break your neck. Seriously.

Another far fetched theory, it could be a one-legged woman or drag queen needed a shoe for a Christmas party. It was spotted by a friend who took it. The one-legged person wore it to a party; their friend returned it afterward. That’s probably unlikely, so back to Kathleen’s idea of the shoe being a signal. 

I picked up the shoe last night as we left after dance class. It was a Jessica Simpson brand shoe in size 7 and in worse condition than it looked from far away.  A size 7 meant a one-legged drag queen didn’t borrow it, that’s for sure.

I hope I am not offending anyone who has only one leg. Please forgive me, I don’t mean it to be hurtful, but it’s part of the investigation and included in the files.

After further inspecting the shoe in question, I saw a mysterious piece of painted paper inside the shoe which looked like a piece of bacon to me. It was cut out and not torn, and why was it in the shoe?

When I showed it to Kathleen and Emily, they agreed it definitely didn’t look like bacon. Is the bacon paper another signal for something? Is it a clue? The bacon was not in the shoe before it vanished.

Will we ever find out the meaning of the black shoe? Do we care? Hell yeah! It’s winter in Vermont, so playing Scooby Doo by solving a mystery passes the time and is entertaining.

My last theory is since I can feel the building is haunted, an old mill ghost is screwing around and having fun with the shoe, making a strange noise that sounds like a peg-legged pirate. Ghosts love pulling pranks like this! 

In closing, I don’t think it is a lost shoe anymore since it vanished and reappeared. What do you think? Scooby dooby doo! 🧐