NEW SHOES

      I have never understood the excitement over a pair of new shoes. I prefer old shoes, and always have. New shoes are too clean, too stiff, too slippery on the soles, or pinchy around the toes. They are awkward. They rub in strange places. They call out their newness in every way.
     It's entirely different with a pair of shoes that are worn-in. They are comfortable, and inviting. They happily enclose my feet in softness and perfectly fit the shape of my foot. They welcome the curves of my heel and toes. But the trouble is that much as I love them and wear them, I wear them out, so new shoes have to happen. They are a necessity.
     And life can be just like shoes. It can be comfortably worn-in, or it can be worn-out. Life can be brand new and stiff and pinching. It can be slippery. We can feel the pinch of the new and long for the old and familiar, ever knowing that it has lost its sole, that it has holes in the toes and paper-thin leather. So in the end, the only thing to do with new shoes is to wear them like crazy so that they wear in as quickly as possible. And just so with life... just so.

I accept the stiffness and the pinching of new life just as I accept the stiffness and pinching of new shoes. It doesn't take long before the leather wears and the soles get scratchy and all is comfortably worn-in yet again.