Farewells and Fresh Beginnings

"What spirit is so empty and blind, that it cannot recognize the fact that the foot is more noble than the shoe, and skin more beautiful than the garment with which it is clothed?" Michelangelo

These words comfort me now in a time of great personal need. The time has come to say farewell to a beloved pair of shoes. Don't get me wrong. I am not a shoe fanatic. I own four pair; one summer, one winter, one dressy black, one dressy brown. That's it. Those are all I require. They last me a long time. I buy nice shoes and I take care of them. As a result, I have become quite attached. My mom says I was like this as a little girl. I remember owning a pair of purple, green, and orange plaid slippers and wearing them until my toes stuck out the front. They moved to Africa one day while I was at a neighbor's house. I was, of course devastated, but I was comforted by the fact that my angel costume and burger king crown would be there to keep them company.

Now it is time to say farewell to faithful old companions. Their smooth clay red leather worn and stained, the soles warped and riddle with holes, the cork blackened and smooth from use. They are indeed beautiful. I shall miss my summer shoes, but I look forward to new acquaintances. I no longer believe that all shoes go to Africa. They go in the trash, but I haven't the heart. These shall receive a proper burial after five years of devoted service. I embrace the nobility of the flesh rather than that of the shoe.

It seems an odd way to begin a story, a farewell to shoes; but it is appropriate somehow. The loss of old shoes necessitates the acquisition of new shoes. The transition is uncomfortable and awkward, but the slate is clean and someday I can look down at my new shoes and see miles written lovingly into their soles.