The Power of the Red Shoes

During our training to become an Ollie Coach we ask our trainees to write a metaphor of their Ollie Journey. 

There once was a woman who lived in a world of black-and-white routines.

Every day looked sensible. Predictable. Safe.

She told herself she was “fine,” yet deep inside she felt as though she were standing outside her own life, watching it happen instead of truly living it. Her dreams sat quietly on shelves collecting dust, while fear disguised itself as practicality.

Then one day, life — as it often does — became a tornado.

It tore through the structures she thought protected her. Old identities, old beliefs, old ways of shrinking herself to fit comfortably into other people’s expectations all began spinning through the air.

And when the storm settled, she found herself somewhere unfamiliar:

A world full of colour.

At first, it terrified her.

Because colour means feeling.

Colour means truth.

Colour means you can no longer pretend you don’t want more.

That’s when she noticed the red shoes.

She didn’t understand their power yet. She only knew they had appeared the moment she stepped into this new version of herself.

So she began walking.

Along the yellow brick road, she met people who reflected pieces of her own inner journey.

The Scarecrow reminded her that learning was never about having all the answers. It was about being willing to think differently. Every new conversation, every workshop, every vulnerable moment created new pathways in her mind — like NLP teaching the brain it could rewrite old stories.

The Tin Man showed her that connection requires softness, not perfection. That the heart doesn’t weaken through feeling — it strengthens. Around campfires and shared conversations, she laughed until tears came. Then cried until laughter returned.

The Lion taught her something even deeper:

Confidence is not the absence of fear. Confidence is walking forward while your knees are shaking.

Together they wandered through forests of uncertainty, crossed bridges of discomfort, and faced moments where old voices whispered:

“Go back.”

“Stay small.”

“Don’t let people really see you.”

But every step outside her comfort zone weakened those voices.

Because the road itself was changing her.

And so were the people walking beside her.

Some days she was the one needing encouragement.

Other days she became the reminder someone else needed.

That’s the quiet humility of growth:

Realising we are never only the student, and never only the teacher.

Finally, after all the searching, she stood before the great Wizard, expecting him to hand her the missing piece — courage, worthiness, belonging, transformation.

But instead, she discovered the truth.

Nothing she needed had ever existed outside her.

The wisdom.

The connection.

The confidence.

The ability to love and be loved.

The courage to become fully herself.

It had been within her the entire time.

And then Glinda smiled gently and said:

“You’ve always had the power, my dear.”

The red shoes were never magic in themselves.

They were a metaphor.

For choice.

For belief.

For the neurological shift that happens when a person stops rehearsing limitation and starts embodying possibility.

So she closed her eyes.

Not to escape reality — but to anchor a new one.

And with each click of her heels, she spoke a new belief into existence:

“I am allowed to grow.”

“I am safe to be seen.”

“I can learn.”

“I can connect.”

“I can begin again.”

Click.

The old fears loosened.

Click.

The nervous system remembered safety.

Click.

She returned home.

But this time, home was not a place.

It was herself.

SP OS21