“How’s the class going?” I ask my friend.
“It started last week, but I didn’t go. I never signed up. I wasn’t sure I’d finish it.”
(you won’t finish if you don’t start, I thought but didn’t say) “I bet you finish all the books you start as well.”
“Yes, I do,” spoken with a grimace.
“I don’t anymore. If I don’t like it, I move on. Some books I plug through for awhile, hoping for it to redeem itself, and sometimes it does. If something isn’t worth the time, I don’t finish. Having said that, I call myself a great beginner … I begin a lot of things, and don’t always finish. I used to chastise myself for that, but I realized if I didn’t start, I wouldn’t have finished the things I have.”
My brown suede boots gave out this week … The zipper was catching and I knew the day would come when I’d not be able to get them on or off. That day came Wednesday. I had them on, but could not unzip them. So here I type with one brown suede boot, and one barefoot … just kidding. First, I waxed the zipper to see if it could overcome the catch point, no luck. Then I took a plier to to grab hold of the zipper pull as I held the teeth together and tugged … and in the opening of the zipper, it came apart. I looked at these lovely boots, and wondered what else I could make of them. The reality was: nothing. I will carry my boots to the garbage, I guess.
Sometimes it is hard to let go of the past, of ideas, of ways of doing things, even if they aren’t working. New beginnings are always opening up,but they ask us to step forward and try. Am I willing to risk, with an unknown outcome? Jennifer Dukes Lee expresses this dilemma well: IF you never go, you’ll never know. There are always good reasons for not walking through the doors of this life. There are always risks in crossing those great thresholds. True enough: Sometimes, our worst fears come to pass. Sometimes, things break. Sometimes, we ourselves are the most broken things of all. But that’s the thing. To live a beautiful life, we have to take the risk. To live a beautiful life, we have to lose the fear of stepping across the threshold. (Jan-Incourage@dayspring.com)
Shoes For the Curator of My Soul
Cement blocks, ill fitting shoes
Doubt on the left, Fear on the right
Laced with guilt, It is hard to walk
Harder to dance, Impossible to fly
Barefoot she skipped ahead Jocelyn