That was me writing my favorite quote from To Kill A Mockingbird - all about walking in the shoes of another- blah blah. Here's the thing. I might have taken that quote too far.
So, I'm swapping homes as usual - and there is an understanding and permission from my dear friend Rosie Posie that we can wear each others scarves and maybe an earring and accessories.
It went a little too far this morning when I felt this sudden self consciousness of my shoes - and wanted to wear something new and different.
Target: Rose's shoe closet. It might not even be half bad if, well, we were the same darn size. But - there I was slipping on Rosie Posie's shoes when, well, get this:
she's a size 8.5 and I'm a size 11
Something - please dear God on Easter Sunday - has to give? What was I thinking - and, well, more importantly who on earth do I think I am??
Why would Rose have to come home to a stretched out shoe? What is wrong with my own shoes?
Well, I admit - I didn't bring a sweet and airy shoe for an Easter Sunday service. I brought a pair of suede comfortable boots, a maryjane-ish walking shoe and running shoes.
Suddenly - I want to wear something different because mine are not good enough and I want to play dress up just a bit too much - and, note please, dear reader, that is if you are reading this far into this self reflective rant - note please, that I was rushed and scrambling after a quick run, quick shower and quick scramble to get out the door - and I had no business perusing my friends shoes!!
Here's the thing: I still do this. It's what my sisters and I call: the O.P.P. thing. Other People's Property. I like wearing other people's stuff. It's a strange thing - that suddenly what I have is just not good enough and I seek a bit of a high from this experience. Or it's about wanting a part of them -when I go to Cocoa Beach I wear my Mom's sweatshirts or my Dad's flannel shirts. Even though I pack plenty of my own stuff.
I knew the shoe thing was taking things too far - I still put on her pair of 8.5 and stuffed my size 11 in there. My instincts and feet were screaming enough for me to at least grab my shoes and stick them in a bag when I flew out the door.
My gut was screeching at me - why on earth would I want to be in pain - and - stretch Rose's shoes??
I was distracted and rushed and my serenity that I experienced from my 27 minute run vanished into the rushed air. All this distraction and bunion pain caused me drive too fast and get lost in a variety of places causing stress, and that rush late anxiety that I know too well.
Then I just stopped, pulled over - and let sanity creep back into my mindspace. Geez...the radio played two songs back to back waking me up to the ridiculous-ness of it all - songs: Man in the Mirror and Practice What You Preach.
I relaxed and suddenly found my way, literally as well - and drove up the long road to this spiritual center on the hill.
I pulled my foot out of the 8.5's - and slipped comfortably into my size 11 brown swede un-Easter boots.
No reason to re-invent, re-design and re-boot who I am by external adornments - what I have, what I wear - and who I am is enough. I already know this, but I forget when there is a smorgasbord of shoes - and other's people's property. (sorry Rosie Posie, forgive me... but I'm still wearing your scarves).
In spite of the tight squeeze in the morning, when I landed at the spiritual center (late, but peaceful and pain free) - I was able to actually focus what was being said... and what mattered - and it mattered.
