How Many Miles Must We March?

Open. Window. Children. Cars. Trees. Rustling. Autumn. Whispers. Slam. Window. Tired. Chaos. Tired. Life. My. Life.

They say you can't fully understand a person's life until you walk a mile in their shoes. I took some time to think about this expression; wrap my head around it if you will.

I suppose some people are an obvious 8 inch heeled stiletto, some flip flops, some sneakers some combat boots and some ballet slippers.

The stilletto is the obviously tortured person. The person striving for attention and fame but usually stumbles in the process because they can't seem to balance the life given or forced upon them.

The flip flop is a person whose life screams of comfort and ease. Unfortunately, many flip flops have an edge to them. This edge creates a crying, soggy blister. The ease and comfort of the flip flop fools many; hurts many and in the long run gets tossed aside.

The sneaker is the person whose life is ease and comfort. They have been given an obvious life of privelege. This life can take them places. The symbolic tennis match, stroll through the woods or even a day shopping. Sneakers can take you places but most often, they take themselves places and fast. So fast, they find themselves running and fumbling towards release and victory in the opposite direction you are in.

The combat boot is a the rough and rugged person. The sort who protects himself from the pain and sorrow they have faced and could face. Most often being such a thick soled sort means they step on toes causing injury accidentally. Other times they maliciously trample on the hearts and emotions of others as a false display of strength and courage.

Finally, comes the ballet slipper. The ballet slipper is the delicate internal beauty. The tragic and troubled sole whose foot is bloody and calloused due to many forced pirouettes and plies but this sole, tortured and bloody prevails. It binds it's hurt with satin and continues with grace and a head held high.

I love people. I love shoes. Amen.