Being the Barefoot Princess

Dancing in the Dark

2010-08-23T20:37:00.003-05:00

It is absolutely amazing to me how a little baby can change your entire life, overnight. My darling baby has taken me for quite a ride over the past two weeks. As she and I visited my parent's house, we were calm, taken care of, sleeping, and generally existing in a very harmonious state. As soon as we returned to our home in Atlanta, she changed her tune. Of course I have no idea why although I have spent countless hours trying to figure it out.
I have become a student of the "irrational science of the newborn". Every day I come up with some new theory as to why my child wants to be awake from 3am until 10am. And every night this child changes her modus operandi and I have to recalculate. I think I have finally figured out how to prepare a bottle so that I do not have to change her clothes every time she eats. She really does not like to have me wrestling with the tiny onesies in the dead of night as she is more awake at that point than I am.
I really think that if I just committed to staying awake all night and didn't even try to go to bed, that I would be better than I am now. As the evening hours approach I become anxious just thinking about drifting off to sleep only to be woken by cries of, what? hunger? No, I just fed her. Wetness? No, I just changed her. Gas? No, she just burped and spit up all over my back. Is there a party going on that I did not know about? Yes, yes, that is it. In my "adult time" when it gets really dark it seems appropriate to crawl into bed beside my husband and dream. In the parallel "baby time" it is appropriate to fall asleep for approximately 15 minutes and then wake up and fidget for an hour, sleep for 15 and then fidget for another hour, eat, fall asleep while eating, sleep for 15, and then fidget until the sun comes up. After the sun comes up, it seems perfectly sane to then fall asleep for 4 straight hours.
"You really should try to sleep when the baby sleeps." Yes, yes, I am doing that. But for some reason at the age that I am, I just feel a bit lazy when I wake up at 3 in the afternoon and haven't even eaten breakfast. If I were in college this would seem so normal, not now though. So, tonight I am not even going to put on my pajamas. I am going to stay in my jeans and t-shirt and wait for the party to start. If there is no party, well, I'm going to have to rethink all the coca-cola I've been drinking!

There's Been a Change in My Shoe Size

2010-08-12T19:27:00.002-05:00

I don't even know how long it has been since the "Barefoot Princess" last entered words here, but it has been long enough to warrant a complete blog name change and purpose I assure you. Oh how arrogant I was to call myself a princess, even if I was barefoot! As I type these words I am indeed barefoot, but I do not have anything close to a pedicure and I haven't worn heels in almost a year! Quell horror! For the past nine months my body has not been my own--I have shared it with a baby who was born two weeks ago. She is now the reigning barefoot princess and I relinquish my title with pleasure! She has my feet, her father's nose, her namesake's lips, and her very own little personality. To say my world has been turned upside down would be an understatement. The life I led before my daughter was born seems so very far away. The contentment and peace that has taken over my soul is vast and oh so lovely. The beautiful baby that rests next to me in her bluebird bassinet has taken possession of my heart and I will never, ever, be the same. When I am ready, I will journey out of the house with my daughter. And I will delight in being able to put my unswollen feet into my leopard print Celine flats instead of those practical black flip-flops!

Out of Whack

2009-03-02T15:19:00.003-05:00

Okay, I'll be the first to admit that in my last post I was a bit "over the top", but that's me sometimes. And I always come back down, if not to earth, to a place that is not as quite as high. However at the present, my beautiful "balance" has been turned upside down and I am morose and depressed to say the least. I went too far, I just pushed too much and am now saddled with an aching foot. I know, I know, when will she ever learn?

The truth is that I loved every minute that I was pushing myself, loved every minute of sweat and loved every minute of pain. I loved the fact that I was working hard at something--if I had been knitting all day long, it would have been the same. I set a goal and I was working towards it. Some of my goals are not all that realistic--I acknowledge that. But sometimes I set good goals and just want to get to them too quickly. It is this intense pace that I do love, that also gets me into trouble.

"Watch and wait", "be patient",--neither of these are virtues of mine. I lose my energy and my focus, I get tired and I get irritated. There is something in my life that I am supposed to be patient with right now and I am not doing a very good job. I am setting myself up for a major disappointment. Since I am aware of this, why not relax and just let things go? And lose the imagined control I have over the situation? Oh no, I don't think so! I really should though....I really should let go and know that everything will come to fruition in due time. (Note to self: please work on this while you are resting.)

I am wearing the most god-awful pants today. I am absolutely embarrassed that I bought these pants and have been wearing them for over a month now. They are 100% polyester and rayon, they are full of static, they are big, they puddle around my shoes, and even though they are black, they do NOT make me look thin. This has been depressing me all day long. Every time I get into the elevator and look at myself in those doors, I just want to melt into the floor and disappear. Or else rush home and have a free pass to "re-do" the entire day in a new and more appropriate outfit. (I maintain that my quality of life would be loads better if I could wear jeans every day.) I am now aware of the effects that ugly and ill-fitting clothes have on me. I would be better off just wearing the one pair of wonderfully-made, well-fitting pants that I do own and love, every day! Perhaps I should just find those same pants in a different color and....you get the point.

As for my sad expression, I will takes things in stride and not overreact. I will return to the pool perhaps, that never hurt anyone, right? Or perhaps I will finally finish Revolutionary Road and move on to a new book. U2 has a new album coming out tomorrow--that's good, yes? There is always sun to be found, somewhere in the world.

Take Care Now

2009-02-11T19:33:00.005-05:00

My, oh my it has been a long time since I've written here. I've missed transferring my thoughts into keystrokes and spaces, letters and dashes....My life has kept me busy and I am happier now than I ever have been in my life thus far. I know, I know, that is a pretty big statement, but I have no reservations in saying it. And if I should die tonight in my sleep I would die a happy woman with only a few regrets.

My mood has lifted and I am embracing each day tightly, knowing that I am a lucky individual. I have a job, I have a home, I have a magnificent family, and I am loved. Even further, I love without bounds a man who will go down in history as one of the most influential people in my life. No matter what may come.

I am at the beginning of an addiction. Do not fear--it is a very healthy addiction. I am addicted to movement. I am addicted to pushing my body further and further, knowing that there are no limits to what I can do. I stand on the treadmill and I begin the run and I know that I am present, fully present. I kick off from the side and feel the cool water run over me as I swoosh and swish and know that I am fully present. And every day I accomplish a new goal, even if it is just to get up and get moving. I have written exhaustively on my swimming, this topic has been covered. However, my focus has widened and is not so very singular any more. I am in love with the mere movement of my body, no matter what it is doing. I crave it like food addicts crave chocolate cake and cheeseburgers. To those who know me, it sounds absolutely crazy.

I have been a "nester" all of my life--so happy to curl up in my bed and read and watch tv and sleep--never wanting anything more, content, satisfied, and also complacent. I have drive now and it goes beyond just exercise. This drive keeps my mood high and I feel confident that I can deal with anything that comes across my path. In the past I have felt fragile and I think I have been treated just like that, like a fragile woman, ready to break at any moment if the wrong thing was said or done. Now? Now? I am strong. I am motivated. I am singing out loud in the car again. I am pushing my mind as well as my body to stay focused, to stay positive, to enjoy the nuances of life, the little things and the big things.

And it is all about balance I think. I wrote about balance before yes? I think it is so important to have balance in your life. To have as many goals as you do accomplishments, to have as many things to look forward to as you have memories to look back upon, to have as many days of sun as you do rain....I am listening right now to my love singing in his "studio" and there is a smile on my face. He is living out his passions and he is putting a spring into his own step.

In these often dire days we have to take care of ourselves and each other and move towards better things.

Swimming

2008-10-30T08:53:00.004-05:00

"How will I recognize you?" said my dad after I told him of my latest feat--60 laps in the pool, 40 minutes of (mostly) continuous swimming. I have managed finally to surprise him with something good.

I keep my fingers together and hold out my thumb to carve my way through the water as I swim up and down the pool--I feel weightless and able. I try to remember how I was taught the free stroke at Camp Greystone all those years ago. I try to not bring my head out of the water as I turn my head to take a breath. I try to forget everything but pushing myself through the water to one end and then to the other. I don't forget about my partner silently swimming next to me. And when I step out of the pool I feel like I can conquer the world.

Swimming is something I have always wanted to do, but never had the chance. I think if I had gone to a high school with a swimming team, I would have been on that team. The high that I get from swimming I get from nothing else in this world. Walking and running pale in comparison to the sense of accomplishment I get from swimming. My body doesn't ache when I finish swimming; instead it feels renewed and refreshed. There is also something about being up at 5:30 in the morning. You feel as though you've gotten a head start on the day--like you have already won the race before you even began! To my surprise it seems to come naturally to me to do this. In college I wouldn't dream of going to bed before midnight and would never make it through the day if I got up before 9. My how things have changed. And even though I have been rising earlier and earlier since I became joined the work force, love, unexpected, is the biggest cause for change.

What about that love? Has it diminished any since my first encounter with it? Not one bit. My love has only gotten deeper. It has become a part of me that I don't recognize myself without. Emerson said, "We are what we think about all day long." I am love. Elusive as it once seemed, now it holds me tight and lets me know everything's going to be okay this time. It whispers to me sweet and tender words of encouragement. I am beyond amazed.

"In tandem"--that's how it works for me. I am perfectly able to live on my own and by myself and will return to that life style if that is what life demands of me. However, I choose another way. I choose to be a part of "together". I choose to dance with love this time. I choose everything that goes along with it--the laughter, the tears, the swimming, and the scallops! Amazing. Absolutely amazing. With dark hair and a smile, I am taken in....with a guitar and a song, I am saved.

It's Been A Long Time

2008-10-02T11:15:00.002-05:00

It has been exactly 2 months since last I wrote here. I have no idea where the time has gone. I am glad to be back though. I've missed this place. Love, unexpected, strikes when you are not looking. You cannot prepare for it; you cannot plan your response. On some level it is a gut feeling and for some people it is either there or it isn't, simple as that. For some people, the love comes first, then the hard work. For others the hard work comes first and from that grows a love. Neither is right or wrong. It is just a testament to how different we all are.

Love, unexpected, strikes when you are not looking; needs to be said twice. I take my lunch early these days because I no longer feel trapped and anxious. I never actually realized how tense I was all the time until I became calm, under the spell of an unexpected love. This isn't temporary magic though--I have been unchained, unleashed, and I am truly, truly grateful. I can make peace now with my life's journey so far because I realize that every tear I shed, every sad moment I ever had was just preparation for this great unbinding.

It is fall now and I can wear my corduroys and sweaters and boots. I love autumn. The air is easier to breathe and I feel so clean and pure in the chilly air. I watch my breath come from my mouth and I have tangible evidence that there is life in me. Love, unexpected, a knock on my door and a new velveteen swing coat. In the fall I like to swing on front porches and listen to the noises of the night. In the fall I like to drink hot coffee at sunrise in my pajamas and robe. I'm not who I used to be. I catch my reflection and I am surprised at what I see. There is a new smile there, a beautiful smile I think. I still live on the same street. I still use the same face cream. I still love peanut butter. But now, now, I am full.

Love, unexpected, a gift to be unwrapped over and over again, each and every day. Thank you. Thank you. I set myself upon this journey with everything that I am and will be. I am not afraid.

A Really Good Day

2008-08-02T12:20:00.003-05:00

I just finished looking through my library of books and picking out a few to read and a few to take to me when I go to New York next week. Yes, I am going to New York for four days and I couldn't be more excited. I just want to immerse myself in the pulse of the city. I don't want to shop and I don't want to see shows. I want to run in Central Park and visit the MoMA. I want to ride the subway and get lost. I want to feel the lifeblood of the city going through my veins. I have high expectations for this trip as you can tell. This is a very big thing for me and I hope it challenges my thinking about where I am right now and where I want to be.

I am sitting in bed drinking this morning's coffee cold, so good, and listening to my iPod. I have another stress reaction in my foot so I have to stay put for now. I have had such an amazing day so far. It makes me realize that my job is such a small part of my life--this, now, this is my life. This is me, wearing my Serfontaine's with a summer top, organizing my closet, washing clothes, calm and peace surround me. I got a very good smoothie this morning from Yogurberry and I have saved half of it for later. I am in my "zone". It is really obvious when you are in the zone. You just feel so complete and so full and nothing in the world can bother you. You are insulated against negative energy and everything just falls into place. It is like that song you just love that comes on the radio right when you need to hear it. It is feeling safe, and being able to accomplish so many things. And it is just right. You wouldn't change a thing.

That's where I am right now. Things are just right and I wouldn't change a thing. I am not focused on having to go to work next week, I am focused on right now and what I need right now. I would love it if my life handed me more of these kinds of days. It would be too good to be true if everyday was like this, but is it for some people? Do some people have endless days like this? Do some people get into their "zone" often and more often than not? I am going to assume that they do. So the next question is, why don't I?

It is because Monday through Friday I spend the majority of my time in a job that I despise and I dwell on this even after I leave the office--that is I begin dreading Tuesday just when Monday ends. I have made it a second job to worry and sulk over the fact that my job is dreadful. I keep trying to tell myself that it is the time outside of work that really matters. But I just cannot get over the time that I am wasting. I know people who really like their job and look forward to coming to work. I have never experienced this feeling. I have never been able to duplicate a really good weekend day during the week. However, I am making it a priority right now to find a way out and to find a way in to a job that challenges me and stimulates me and ultimately makes me happy in some way. I get stuck sometimes thinking that this is all I can do, that this is all I am capable of. This kind of thinking will get you nowhere. You have to demand the best for yourself even if that means demanding the impossible. I have to demand this for myself. I cannot just let it go on. Why would anyone let something like this go on? Fear.

You may not be able to envision this, but there are people out there, like me, who fear success and happiness. We are usually realists, or as some would put it, cynics and pessimists. We do not know how to function unless there is some sort of crisis. We begin to feel like this is the only way we can really be successful--living under tremendous amounts of stress and living a rather dreary and unhappy life. We do not demand the best for ourselves because we are scared that the happiness and success that comes with that demand might just go away and we'd be back where we started, so why go there in the first place. We become accustomed to just having bad weeks all the time. We become accustomed to always waiting for the other shoe to drop. It is a hard thing to break, but it can be done. If we let go of the fear and realize that we are already at the bottom, we can only go up from here, then we can free our minds up to pursue what we really want, to pursue sunshine instead of rain. Fear is an entity unto itself. It is not possible to just forget about it. You must kill the fear, literally decimate the fear. And when this has been done--well I've done it before so I know that the result is ultimate freedom and unrelenting streams of smiles and laughs. You get your bad days in there, but they are not the norm anymore.

As I said, I've done it before, I can do it again. I have the task set before me now to assassinate my fear and embrace a life that lets me find happiness and satisfaction, a life that lets me feel the peace and calm I feel now on a daily basis. I've set this out before the world, so I'd better make good on my promises. After this past week of watching the clock and sleeping with dread every night, I am more than ready to do this. Fear, you've been warned.

#2

2008-07-29T10:58:00.001-05:00

fear catches me,
just as I pick up the pen,
fear catches me—
I am paralyzed before my own thoughts,
fearful of what might not get into the paper,
of absent rhyme, phrase, and meter,
I succumb to the emotion and depart
leaving yet another day void of connection,
fear catches me,
just as I was sitting down to write you.

Mireille

In This Samsara.....

2008-07-29T07:12:00.000-05:00

In this samsara we spin,
with doubt and loathing,
wondering if a day will come
when certainty appears,
to stop us.

A Case for Not "Being in the Moment"

2008-07-23T09:47:00.005-05:00

I have written here on this blog that I believed one of the keys to happiness was to stay in the moment, to be mindful of what was going on right now, not tomorrow or yesterday. However, I want to argue that there are times when "being in the moment" is not possible, and sometimes it actually hurts.

My argument begins with the fact that sometimes circumstances in our lives bring us into places where we can barely breathe, but we have to be there, we have to experience that suffocating feeling day after day, we just have to, we aren't given a choice. How does one cope with this? I think escape is a wonderful word and a wonderful idea. I don't think that being in the moment at this time is such a good idea. When you are at the point of almost being suffocated by someone or something, thinking about it just makes you panic. And panicking is even worse than suffocation. Anyone who has ever had anything similar to a panic attack can attest to the horror of such a situation. So, in times like these we need an escape, we need some extra space to breathe, we need to give ourselves extra time to process our lives. We need to be patient with ourselves, for we are in untenable circumstances. In my case I have little to no control over them at the moment, but some may have the option of just getting up and walking out, and if you have that option, take it. Life is not about being in places where we can barely breathe. Life is too short not to be able to take full breaths every moment you can, taking the oxygen into your lungs and feeling that life force come into your being.

When you cannot be in the moment you have to find a way to escape the minutia of your circumstances as well as the larger implications of this situation. Often I write to escape, other times I listen to music on my iPod, trying desperately to drown out the noise of what is going on around me. Sometimes I have to find something I am looking forward to and tell myself, let's get to that point and things will be better. I look for small things to take my mind off the fact that I am on the verge of being pushed into an ocean where the tide will just take me under. I get a new cup of coffee. I try to be thankful for what I have. I try to understand that this isn't a permanent thing, that things will change, that thing are going to change for the better in a little while. And while I'm here I won't define "a little while", best not to, although it would be nice to have a definite end, a date perhaps on the calendar when you knew for sure your natural breathing would resume and you would be standing steady by that ocean letting the waves tickle your ankles, not afraid that the tide was going to take you away.

I would love to physically escape--by that I mean I would love to just sleep through the tough times or take a vacation and not come back until change had happened, but life doesn't work like that. I hope that when change comes I will appreciate it ever more than I would had I not gone through this stifling time, this stultifying and heavy time. So, for now, I cannot be in the moment for it is too much for me to bear. I can hear some therapist saying, "feel the pain, go through it and come out on the other side, look at it, stare it down....". Not for me. I cannot just look at this and examine it and live it. Nope. I can only find ways to make it better. Get a new cup of coffee. Try not to watch the clock too much. Give myself a break for now. Exercise. And get plenty of sleep.

Soul Mates

2008-07-08T13:16:00.004-05:00

As I am writing this a treasure sits beside me on my desk--a treasure that I just found, that is changing my view of the world--Eat, Pray, Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. I know I am a bit late on discovering this one, but better now than never. I feel like I am reading my own words as I read this book. I feel like her journey is a precursor to the journey I am ready to begin. (However I do not think I can go to Italy and gain 23 pounds and be okay with that!)

I have just read a passage which paraphrases the words of someone Gilbert met at an Ashram in India. He is speaking of soul mates and how Gilbert has the wrong definition of them. He says that a soul mate is "a mirror, the person who shows you everything that's holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life." He continued to say that even though they would be the most important person in your life, you didn't need to necessarily be with them for life. I had never, ever thought of soul mates in this way before. I always thought that your soul mate was the person who challenged you and made you a better person, who told you the truth and loved you in spite of your flaws. But I always thought that this was the person you were "meant" to be with for the rest of your life. I never considered the idea that maybe you didn't need to live with that mirror all the time, for the rest of your life. I never considered that maybe soul mates come into our lives and we break ourselves upon them and we are never the same and then they leave, or rather we have to let them go.

So, in this vein of thought, I have met my soul mate. I have met him, loved him, and let him go. I feel such a sense of relief now because I know that I didn't lose the "love of my life". I realize now that I haven't had that great love yet. It is still waiting for me somewhere out there. What a thrill! What great news! I feel so young and so free right now. I feel like the biggest burden has been lifted off my shoulders. I am not the victim of fate; I am not the victim of "bad timing". I am rather the recipient of many, many gifts. Oh how grateful I am today! No matter what the next moment brings me, I am thankful. Right now, I am filled with much love.

A New Window

2008-07-07T11:40:00.003-05:00

Do you know that before I begin to type one word I turn on my iPod and begin listening to music? It inspires me and lets me focus. Right now the album is "How We Operate" by Gomez.
I have decided that it is time for me to make some real changes in my life. I have decided that I have done this for too long, I have been here in Atlanta for too long, I have let too many things hold me back. This isn't working anymore. I am deeply unsatisfied. And some may say if you can't make your life work there, it isn't going to work anywhere. I disagree wholeheartedly. I have a very good friend who was very unhappy and very unproductive--he changed his vantage point and now he is a better man, he is happier, he is more content and it is so obvious what the difference is. I am bogged down by too many things, things that no one else seems to be bogged down by. I have let myself get comfortable and have not challenged myself to see life from a different window.

"An ax to break the frozen sea within." Kafka

I do not know what it is going to take, rather what will be my ax, but it has to be done. I am ready to step outside my comfort zone and take on something new, a new place, new people. I have never really had an adventure, something that I tried and either found it good or found it bad. I never give myself the chance. I keep myself on a leash. Fear. It is fear that keeps me tied down. Fear of the unknown, fear of failure, fear of being lonely in a strange place. Fear. It is amazing what kind of power it has over me. I have had to deal with some very bad situations, and I got through them all. But a good or bad "situation" can exist anywhere. What I haven't done is deal with life, with sadness, with joy, with happiness in somewhere other than area code 404.

It is imperative that I get on this now. I have to move, otherwise I'll stay right where I am and be this way until I die. I cannot allow that to happen. I cannot allow fear to rule my life. I must rise above and know that I can handle anything, that all is not too much for me, that I am strong and can be me anywhere. Fear of a change in self also keeps me back. I know that my sense of self is strong, that I know who I am, but what if, just what if, I don't? What if I change venues and change myself? Would that be so bad? I am not perfect now and never will be. There are things about myself I would like to change but I don't have the opportunity to here--stagnant, that's the best word I can use to describe my life right now. Like the puddle at the end of my parent's driveway that never really dries up but is always there to wet your wheels so that water gets into the garage!

I will do this, mark my words. I will not let another year go by without my having tried something new and wonderful. I need to see what the world holds for me as well as seeing what else I can bring to the world. I think if given the chance that I can do anything, but I can't do it from here. Here, I am paralyzed, scared, and asleep. I am surrounded by my past and I need to get away from it and begin anew. What would life be like without constant reminders of my mistakes? What would life be like if I had to use a map to find the bookstore? Wouldn't it be so much better than knowing where everything is all the time, wouldn't it be so much better to not know and have to figure it out? I think so, I do think so. Driving back and forth on the Interstate this weekend gave me time to think. Can you tell?

Shame and Regret

2008-07-01T12:56:00.003-05:00

SHAME: (noun) a painful emotion caused by a strong sense of guilt, embarrassment, unworthiness, or disgrace

REGRET: (verb) to remember with distress or longing ; (noun) sorrow aroused by circumstances beyond one's control or power to repair

So which one is worse? Does regret cause shame? Does shame cause regret? Are they even related? I am not sure. I don't think that they have a causal relationship, but I do think they often go hand-in-hand. In 3 different dictionary definitions "a painful emotion" was associated with shame. And I think it is true. I think that ultimately shame is a very painful emotion, one that we would rather not experience. I have felt shame more than once in my own life and know that in addition to it being unpleasant, it is almost always humbling. I have been brought to my knees with the weight of shame, for it is a heavy burden to bear. There, on my knees, I seem to want to do anything to make it go away, to loosen the rocks that pull on my heart. Shame seems to hit right there in the middle of my chest, precisely where my heart is. Of course I believe the root of shame is guilt, but guilt seems to be less painful for it can be reasoned away. Shame puts more demand on the heart. It almost screams for reconciliation, for some type of recovery, for some type of return home. Shame has that kind of power, the kind of power that makes you feel as though you can never go home again, the kind of power that declares you to be impotent and unimportant and ultimately wrong.

Is shame a natural part of life? Or is it something we do to ourselves, something we put on ourselves? I'm not 100% certain on the answers to these questions. I think that we are human and therefore will make mistakes of varying gravities. Those mistakes that hurt other people are the ones that bring on the most shame. For example, I do not feel shame for being late for work. On the other hand I feel much shame for lashing out at my mother and hurting her feelings. I think shame is somewhat a part of life, but I also think that we can manufacture shame by constantly feeling guilty about something. I think we can be conditioned to feel guilty for even the slightest infraction and therefore feel shame on a daily basis. But I also think we can learn to let some things go with the knowledge that guilt and the shame that follows it can be dangerous for us, unhealthy as it diminishes our self-worth.

I have learned that guilt can be instilled into children by their parents. These are the children who grow up and constantly feel like they have to live up to something or someone; they are the ones that are always doing things for others, as if they are trying to make up for something bad they did. I have seen firsthand how crippling this can be. It is a race away from shame, a way not to feel that ever-present guilt. The trick is to know that sometimes we will mess up in a big way and we will be ashamed of ourselves, and we will also know what to do to make up for it, we will know how to return home with our head held high and ask for forgiveness.

What to do with regret? It is very hard to live in this world and not have regrets. I think everyone regrets something, some more than others. Some people live their life regretting their past and trying to make up for it or re-create the past so they can do it all over again but this time with that 20/20 hindsight ahead of them. Others basically have no regrets. They act and if they mess up, well then they deal with the consequences and move on. They let it go. One part of regret is not being able to let a mistake go. And yet it is critical that we do let our regrets go, for they can be poison to our futures. Regrets can make us scared creatures who cannot go after certain challenges for fear of failure and more regret. They can prevent us from entering into new relationships for fear of obtaining even more regret.

As with shame, regret is unavoidable. We are human and we make mistakes. Sometimes we make mistakes that cannot be repaired; sometimes we make mistakes that will never be forgotten. And we regret our actions or our reactions. We look back upon those mistakes with "distress". Regret can cause pain just like shame, but I don't think regret causes the same kind of heart bending pain shame does. I don't think regret can bring you to your knees; I think it can bring you to your senses. Regret can cause a person to feel unworthy, but only if they allow this to happen. We can control regret more than we can shame. Regret can teach us, shame only hurts us. But regret, regret can show us how to be better people. If you give into regret and don't let it go after it has taught its last lesson, you end up on the floor scared and cold.

No one wants to feel ashamed. No one wants to deal with regret. Shame can humble us like nothing else can and regret can be a great teacher. We should try to avoid both, but know that life goes on and if we don't hold on to the past we can be free to explore the world with open eyes and an open heart, not afraid to go deep into the mountains or farther down the river.

2008-06-24T07:15:00.001-05:00

"It is easy in the world to live after the world's opinion; it is easy in solitude after our own; but the great man is he who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude."
Emerson

Connections

2008-06-23T18:59:00.002-05:00

...so I did it. I posted a photo of myself and filled in all the blanks about my relationship status and my interests and I emailed some friends and it all began. The invitations came in as quickly as I sent them out and all of a sudden I was exposed on the top of a hill with nothing to separate me from these strangers that now knew what my favorite book was. I felt very vulnerable and very fearful. How had I become part of this wide net of people that I hardly knew? How had my identity been compromised? It was through the genial, welcoming atmosphere of the Internet. Come one, come all, publish your picture, tell us some things about you, and we'll hook you up with more friends than you could ever wish for! Sell your everlasting soul to the masses and you too can have over 200 friends!

No, that's not the way I work. That's not the way I establish relationships. That's not the way I interact with people. I am getting ready to write two letters of thanks and they won't be emailed, they will be handwritten and sent with a stamp to the recipients. That is the way I work. That is the way I establish my self in this world. Not by writing on an imaginary wall, not by pressing a button and saying "confirm as friend". No one has 99 friends. No one can sustain that many relationships at once. It is impossible. We can divide ourselves up into many pieces but at some point the pieces are so small that they become only a picture on a page, only the writing on a Christmas card envelope, only a mention once every few years, only.....

I hit a different button this time. I pressed the button that said "deactivate". And I felt an immense relief. My friends were back where they were supposed to be, in my circle, within my arms, on the other end of the phone at midnight crying, laughing in the dark at the movies, sharing my life and my smiles and my frowns. They didn't need a "connection" to get to me. They only needed to call out my name and there I would appear.

We are too far away from each other as it is. We let things get in the way of a simple conversation. We don't reach out with our hands and invite camaraderie. We don't write letters anymore. We mistrust the Post Office but put all our trust in this Internet of ours, in this World Wide Web. And yes, letters get lost, and computers crash. But shared experience, shared words never fade from memory if they are sincere. Bring me some sincerity and a glass of iced tea. Bring me a porch swing and a box of Nilla wafers to share with you. I'd like to sit a spell. I'd like to know how your tomatoes are growing this year and what you've just finished reading and can't get out of your mind. I'd like to hear you tell me about your grandfather and I'd like to tell you about my niece and nephew.

We've lost touch with each other and are using poorly constructed webs to make us feel as though we are still connected somehow. There is no substitute for real friendship. A photo and a few words don't satisfy me. Why do they satisfy you? What makes me your friend? The push of a button and you are allowed into my world? What happened to commonalities? What happened to attraction and likability? It seems rather sad to me that we have come to a place where it takes these false networks to keep us together. The world has gotten too big, or we have gotten too busy. Either way, we need to figure out a way to find each other again. I tell you what--next time we talk you give me your address and I'll drop by the next time I'm in the neighborhood and we can have coffee and visit. Would that work? If I'm never in your neighborhood I'll call you on a Saturday and we can talk for a bit, catch up, learn some new things about each other. How's that? Now we can be real friends. Now we can share secrets and loves and sorrows and joys and scrapes and jelly doughnuts! Wow! This is going to be fun!

Overflow

2008-06-17T14:05:00.003-05:00

It is like a faucet that has been leaking for almost 2 years now--except now the sink is full and can take not another drop. There used to be such great hope, such great expectation. There used to be such great love and such great affection. It didn't come in floods, it dripped, steadily and at one point it filled up a great room and I was full. Lately it has been dripping another way and I have known this was coming. The last drop fell today and I am overflowing with sadness. I cannot express how badly it feels when you realize everything you thought about something was flawed--that your perceptions were illusions, mirages in the desert, never really there. I feel as though I have been robbed, as though someone has stolen the one thing that held me up when the clouds came. I am absolutely beside myself right now. I don't know whether to look right or to look left, whether to breathe or not, whether to cry or fly into a rage. No, I don't want to fly into a rage and I don't want to stop breathing and I can look both left and right. There is nothing here that will hurt me anymore. The ghosts have revealed their true identities, the gig is up, the show is over.

I never realized how much I had depended on someone else's unhappiness for my own happiness. Because their unhappiness meant there was room for me, meant that I still counted, meant that I was still loved. Everything is different now and I owe many apologies. I am truly ashamed of myself. I am very happy for them, happy that they are content now and not in such a terrible state of unrest. They deserve everything in the world and this is just the beginning of a windfall of great things. This also means that I am gone. My position has been filled. Mommy and Daddy are back home and silly Mary Poppins can fly off in the wind now. Nothing need be said, if you remember Mary Poppins knew when it was her time to go and she just went. And she went silently. If I truly love the way I say I do, I will make my leave and be just as quiet. I will bow out knowing that there is no more room, knowing that I do not belong here anymore, knowing that I never belonged here.

Give up the ghost they say--never knew what it meant until just now. It is something I have to do in order to be the woman they want me to be. I won't sleep for days as I fight with my ghosts and try to rationalize how I can keep them in my life. I won't eat for days as I rock in the corner mourning a loss. But I will emerge from this--bruised and torn yes--but I will emerge and I will take up my journals and begin to write poetry and maybe I'll ask the universe if this is the time to put down my proverbial torch. And I don't know what she'll say. I will be prepared for anything. Just let me rest now and wrap myself in this great sadness. I will burn this cloak of desolation in a few day's time and will trade it for a cloak of great joy. There are many things to celebrate. I have seen the end of a bad time and the beginning of a new one. Rejoice! Sing praises to god! There is a time and place for everything under the sun. Let us be merry--for this is your time!

Summer Colds

2008-06-15T18:19:00.004-05:00

Summer colds are the worst! I've been fighting with one for almost a week now and on Saturday I just had to call in reinforcements. So, thanks to some antibiotics, a little cough syrup, and Prednisone, I seem to be feeling a bit better. In fact I went to see "Sex and The City" this afternoon with friends. It wasn't a great movie like "Elizabeth" or "The Queen", and it wasn't even great as in "Something's Gotta Give" or "Say Anything"; however in its own right it was a great storyline and the characters were memorable and yes, believable. These were not "girls" anymore anyway. The main character Carrie was 40 and one of her friends turned 50 at the end of the movie. This was about women. This was about who we love and who loves us back.

I am eager to find love right now. Being sick this weekend and being all alone made me wish I had a companion who would bring me some water or just sit with me and be there when I woke up during the night. I am eager to share my life, my boring albeit often crazy life. And yet I know that love, authentic love, is hard work. It is hard to find it in the first place, and then it is hard work to keep it. By this I mean, if the love is worth its salt, you will spend time nurturing it and fighting for it and then basking in its glow. I want something to fight for. I am ready for the challenge. I have done the hard work on myself, taken that proverbial look in the mirror, and tried to correct the things I know were not right. I need another sort of mirror now--a mirror in the form of someone that I have stood beside during bad weather, who I have sat next to in Symphony Hall, who I have looked to for guidance, and now who I look at and see what other kind of work I need to do on myself. (I have a friend who says that he is the rock that great men break themselves upon--note to friend, I have broken myself on you too.)

I don't want a wedding and I don't want a honeymoon. I want all the stuff that comes before and after and in between and along the way. I've always toyed around with the idea that I wasn't meant to have a partner, be part of a team, but secretly I've always thought that I was meant to be with someone, with someone strong and gentle, intelligent and sensitive, generous and charitable. At this point in my life I cannot give up on thinking that maybe my soul's lover exists out there somewhere. One day though I will give up, not because I'm tired of waiting, but because the universe will signal me to put down my torch and just follow the path, by myself, and that will be okay. For now, I hold my torch high up in the air with an outstretched arm and look over all the earth to find that matching torch, the one made similar to mine, the one that with mine will light up the universe. If you are out there, raise your torch high so that I may find you. And so that we may carry on the journey of life together.

Pancakes and Expectations

2008-06-09T14:25:00.003-05:00

I had the most glorious weekend--I traveled to my parent's house where my sister, her husband, and my precious nephew Jimbo had come to visit too. My brother, Lawton, and his wife and daughter live there already. We had the best time together. On Saturday we all got in the pool and watched Jimbo (19 months) jump off the diving board and blow bubbles and watched Adeline (Lawton's daughter, 10 months) be such a little lady, so demure, wanting to keep away from all the noise the rest of us were making. Dad and Mom were in the pool too! It was a beautiful day and we took advantage of every minute.

It is such a treat for me to wake up to a house full of people. And to wake up to a little boy is even more of a treat! To eat pancakes with him and watch him eat sausage after sausage was thrilling. He talks ALL the time and makes everybody laugh. They are little miracles these children. I am so thankful to have such a loving family around me. Often I wish we lived closer, but then our time together may not be as precious as it is now.

I had no expectations for this trip home. I desired only to be around my siblings and their children and my parents. Things seem to run so much more smoothly when you let go of the way you want things to go and just let things happen. The same goes for relationships. The worst thing you can do is try to "engineer" a relationship. Relationships whether they are romantic or platonic need room to be as they desire to be. You cannot force something that doesn't want or need to exist. This means sometimes you have to let go of certain relationships because you realize that they are forced and somehow no longer make sense. We will all try to make certain things happen, it is in our nature to control. But in the end, those relationships that endure are the ones that were allowed to grow at their natural pace. On the opposite side of the coin those relationships that were made to grow, will eventually die. I have been in both kinds of relationships and I can honestly say that the ones that I let go of and let be were the ones that made me the happiest.

Where I Find Myself

2008-06-04T13:53:00.007-05:00

I have been letting my foot heal from a stress fracture now for a month and finally on last Sunday I went for a walk. It was absolutely the most wonderful thing in the world. I felt so alive! I felt so connected with my surroundings! I rested on Monday and yesterday I went for another walk. For some reason I was being very observant on this walk and to my surprise I saw some of the most wonderful things. First of all much had changed on the trail in a month. There were patches of poison ivy where there used to be none and the "weeds" alongside the trail were really tall. (I hate to call them "weeds" because they must serve a purpose, otherwise why would they be there? I don't know what it is, but I'm sure poison ivy serves some purpose as well.) Everything was so green and lush. I saw several plants that I've seen in my mother's garden. And I thought to myself some of these plants are indigenous to Georgia, therefore someone across the world may have never seen them before. I looked up and my eyes met with pine trees and oaks and poplars. I glanced upon verdant ivy and a bit of kudzu springing up among the rocks next to the river. I saw wild ferns and dried up dandelions and vines all twisty and turned up in the trees.

I looked over the trail and saw a beautiful creek coming out of a corner in the woods and went down by the river to watch the water flow around and over and among and under the rocks and branches. I sent a leaf down the river to see which direction it would take. I dipped my hands in the water and then threw a few pebbles in the water just to see them splash. I saw a very big black snake winding its way up the hill--it had just crossed the trail from the water. I will admit that as fascinated as I was by the snake, I was also a bit afraid. I tried to find it on my way back, but it didn't leave much in the way of tracks. Two baby chipmunks crossed the trail right in front of me! They were precious and so small. And there were two robins sitting in the grass (until I came upon them and they took flight).

As I was looking up into the woods I glimpsed a patch of orange. It seemed out of place with all the green surrounding it, so I took another look. It was there, about five or six orange leaves right there in the middle of so many green plants. I have no idea what it was. I wondered a little way into my walk why I had never bothered to look this closely at my surroundings. Then I remembered how fast I used to walk and how determined I was to push myself to the limit and over. I am glad I have slowed down because I missed so much!

After my walk I took a dip in the pool and the water felt so good. I swam back and forth across the pool seeing how far I could go without taking a breath and I did back flips in the water--I was 8 again! Then I realized that my trusty bathing suit was falling apart and I decided it was time to go home. There are lots of ways to spend your time, but I think those two hours in the woods and then in the pool were probably the best spent two hours I've had in a long time. I have to take today off to rest my foot, but I'll be back tomorrow. And I'll have my eyes peeled for anything new, and everything old. Oh how grateful I am to have legs and feet and eyes and ears and a place to go to find myself.

I am thrilled to have set my eyes upon the very intricate world of the woods, upon the thrilling rush of water over rocks, upon creatures slimy and small. I see my world differently now than I did two months ago. I see the natural and the artificial and have learned that I prefer the natural world. One day I am going to wake up on the forest floor and look up and see the sun coming down upon me through the trees. I will be very happy.

The Novice

2008-05-30T14:01:00.004-05:00

I am reading the greatest book right now, The Pillars of the Earth, by Ken Follett. When I get into a book like this, I become absolutely absorbed by the book and it is all I can think of. I dream of the characters and I often mistake the years, thinking it is the year 1142 instead of 2008. When I read about the past, I always wish I could have lived in another time. In 1142 there was no traffic, there was no Starbucks, there was no Internet. Every day was about survival. Some people walked for days on end to reach monasteries that would provide them with a bit of thin beer and bread. Some men went from castle to castle, from town to town, trying desperately to find work to support their wives and children. Often they walked barefoot. Often they walked in the cold and slept outdoors with only the cloaks on their back for warmth. I am amazed at how simple things were then. You worked the land or you tended your sheep or you cooked in an Earl's kitchen and then went to bed bone tired and got up in the morning and did it all over again. But there was joy in that work, there was a real satisfaction in just providing for your family. And it wasn't just the men, the women worked just as hard. The children played outside with no toys to entertain them, just their imagination. And they were fine, they were healthy, they were spiritually pure beings. This isn't to say there weren't evil forces present everywhere. Outlaws hid in the forest ready to rape and pillage every traveller that crossed their path. Crooked Kings and Queens favored one man's family over another if he had more money. That was the thing that was the same basically: Money could get you everywhere if you had it. If you didn't, you lived that simple life. And it seems to me that the peasants, the monks, the common folk, lead much happier lives than those with 100 pounds of silver.

I am longing to simplify my own life right now. I am longing to get out of the city, to live among nature and learn to live off the land. I am longing for a life of joy, not one of constant stress and worry. I want to survive each day and be thankful for doing just that. I want to lie beneath the stars and be thankful for the ability to see. I want to splash cold water on my face from a river and be thankful that I can feel. I assume it is possible to do these things and still live this life, but it seems to be so hard. There is too much of this and too much of that. Excess abounds and I'm not comfortable with it anymore. I am not comfortable now in the year 2008. Supposedly we have come so far and invented so many wonderful things and we should be so comfortable now. But I'm not. I'm not sure we haven't gone backwards in many senses. Does a CEO of a big company experience the kind of joy a Shepard did in 1142? Or is it a matter of perspective? Or can joy be qualified in this way? I'm just not sure that we are that much better off now than we were then. I'm just not sure.

sister of mine

2008-05-29T11:51:00.004-05:00

I have chosen to take the advice of a very wise friend and stop whining on this blog. Instead I am choosing to lay before you the things I am grateful for, the wonderful and beautiful things in my life, the things that are close to my heart, and the people without whom I would not be where I am today. Today I want to tell you about my best friend, Laurie.

I have one sister and her name is Laurie. She is five years younger than I am, but we are very close. She has a son named Jimbo and he is my little savior. In the months leading up to his birth I was quite the mess and really just thought life wasn't worth the fuss anymore. When Jimbo was born I realized that the most precious things in my life were well worth the "fuss". Jimbo, at just 19 months, inspires me. He talks all the time and has more personality in his little body than I've seen in some grown adults! He is definitely Laurie's child. And I love him like I've never loved anything else. I feel like he is my own and I would walk on fire for him.

Laurie is very busy these days being a mother and wife, but she always has time for me. Laurie is the most unselfish person that I have ever known. She is constantly helping someone in need. She has this sweet spirit that I've always thought was a bit other-worldly in that I don't understand how someone like her could have ever been born of this earth. She never judges me or admonishes me for my bad decisions, no matter what. She encourages me and she loves me unconditionally. Laurie is the consummate friend. She loves to laugh and she loves to be with other people. She knows me better than anyone else on this earth.

I smile every time I hear her voice. And we are actually very different people. She is engaged in family life and I am just plugging along on my own. She has a very strong faith in God; I am still struggling with how God fits into my life. She is a very good cook; I get impatient just waiting for water to boil. She is conscientious with her money; I am trying. Laurie is the kind of person I want to be one day. Full of grace and peace, lovely in all ways, tender, sensitive, and ever so accepting. She sees something wonderful in all people. Oh and she has the best stories! Laurie is always getting into jams or finding herself in funny situations. Sometimes all I want to do is hear about her day and what sorts of things she got into that day.

Laurie is the paragon of motherhood. It is so strange because she never played with dolls as a child--that was me, I took care of my dolls like they were real; she named one of her dolls "babe" and took all of her clothes off. I was incensed and thought she should not be allowed to play with dolls anymore. And now? Let's just say that Jimbo is going to be bored to death in school because Laurie is so entertaining to him. She sings to him; she pulls him down the hall on a towel; she reads to him; she encourages him to be his own person while at the same time gently reminding him to "listen and obey". They are quite the pair! I love to listen to her tell me about Jimbo and what he is doing, what he is saying, what she observes in him. It is always fascinating to me. And every time I hear him on the phone, I melt and think once again that I need to be closer to her so that I can be more a part of his life.

I couldn't ask for a better sister, for a more loyal best friend. I thank my parents for giving me such a tremendous gift. (They also gave me a brother, but I'll tell you about him later.) I wouldn't trade anything in the world for my sister. There is a love between us that cannot be replicated in all the world. I think of all the people in my life and I always come back to her. I wouldn't be where I am without her. I wouldn't be this sane. I wish everyone could know Laurie, but secretly I want her to myself. My heart overflows with love for her and I am so blessed to be a part of her life. No one can ever take the place of my dear, dear Laurie.

Let Me Think About It

2008-05-14T08:14:00.005-05:00

I have found a sort of peace of mind about several things lately. I have taken control of situations in my life that heretofore I have just ignored or let run wild. Taking control of these things, taking responsibility for my actions and lack of action, has made me feel so much less overwhelmed. I get overwhelmed very easily. Two or three things going wrong in the same day and I'm on the floor saying "I'm done, I can't do this anymore". Being tired and needing to complete tasks makes me despondent and so angry with the world. I feel as if the world is out to get me and take me down. This frequently happens when I try to deal with more than one thing at a time. It isn't that I can't multitask, but that's just paper-pushing and typing at the same time and making quick decisions all along. I get overwhelmed by life's little requirements and decisions, like going to the grocery store or getting gas or deciding what to eat for dinner. These little things take over my mind and all of a sudden I'm having a breakdown!

To help me with this I am trying to remember that I am only responsible for today, for this moment, tomorrow is another day and one that I have no control over. Today is my responsibility. What can I get done today to facilitate life's journey and take care of myself? It is like the old adage about not being able to see the forest for the trees. I see trees and limbs and leaves and the pine straw and the squirrel. I do not see the entire forest as a whole very often. To that end, I can only deal with this moment right now. The next one will be dealt with when it comes to me.

In this quest to be ever more mindful I am trying to utilize the phrase, "Let me think about it". I am trying to give myself time to think about decisions before I jump in head first and then regret the decision later. It is a way to reduce the number of things I do that I regret later and yet cannot be undone. Like buying something from a store with no return policy. You get the item home and realize it really doesn't suit you, but you have no recourse except to get store credit and what you really want is that money back. Those kinds of situations cause me excessive worry because I know I didn't think about my decision and if I had I would have never made it in the first place. So, I am thinking about things more now. Financially I am trying to make good decisions and that takes time for me. Emotionally I am trying to be more careful and that takes time.

I guess I am not naturally a very patient person so I tend to make quick decisions and want things done yesterday. Case in point, my bum foot. I miss exercising so much and just want my foot to be healed so I can get back to my woods, my trails, my time outside working my body, pushing myself, achieving new goals. But my foot is not healed right now. It needs time to repair itself and it needs rest. I cannot just take off the boot and "walk through the pain" or else I risk breaking my foot entirely. I have set longer parameters for healing than will be probably be needed so that I am not disappointed when a week goes by and I don't feel better. I have to remember that the woods will remain and my body will easily go back to its routine when the time is right. Timing--oh how important it is in everything! When things are timed correctly life runs smoothly, calm is in the air and peace is experienced. Sometimes though we have to let go of the control we think we have on life in order for time to take its natural course and work itself out in the proper way. Letting go is not something I am good at in any way. But I suppose it is something I should work on. Let me think about that one and get back to you!

A Few of My Favorite Words

2008-05-08T09:55:00.003-05:00

taciturn
sanguine
inanition
degradation
verdant
omphaloskepsis
demure
weltschmerz
crimson
garrote
transient
innate
fruition
aerial
avian

Dreams

2008-05-07T09:29:00.003-05:00

I am back in das boot and it is as unattractive now as it was a year ago and as uncomfortable. I get to wear jeans to work though because I can't fit any of my pants over the boot. That's a good thing. I am a jeans woman, jeans and flip-flops and long-sleeved white t-shirts. That is my idea of style! My foot is beginning to feel a little better, but I fear I am in for more "rest" than I would care for. I am back to my old habits. I come home from work, eat a bit, then go to sleep. In my flawed logic if I can't be outside doing what I love, then I will just sleep.

I have always been a big sleeper, have always taken lots of naps. Sleep is very restorative for me. No one in my family or circle of friends understands it. They see it as missing out on life. I see it as recharging my batteries and having a little time where I don't have to think so much. My mind can be my enemy sometimes as it is very hard for me to turn it off. Don't get me wrong, I love to think, but sometimes I need a break. Watching tv can be a good distraction, but I'd rather sleep than watch what is on tv now (except for my dear Law & Order). I believe that when I sleep all my thoughts get sorted out and become clearer because usually when I wake up I can think so much better than I could before.

I am trying to meditate more, but I find this to be extremely difficult. My thoughts constantly wander off in the wrong direction. For example, if I'm trying to focus on my breathing I'll start thinking about whether or not I left the lights on in the car or I'll star thinking about all the books I want to read. Get the point? Even as I write this I am thinking about how I can best describe my relationship with music. I will keep trying though.

Music is like the Pied Piper to me--when I hear something I like I am drawn to it like a moth to a flame. I have a very visceral response to music. A song can give me so much energy I feel like I'm about to explode! Or a song can make me extremely contemplative and drive me to write for hours on end. I like to listen to my favorite classical music alone--I can process it better that way--like Durufle, Elgar, Chopin, or the Ahn Trio. The Indigo Girls always energize me as does U2. Pinback and Gomez make me contemplative.

This is quite the miscellaneous post. I've gone from das boot to Gomez--what a trip! Random thoughts in a random pattern? (I've been called "random" before--but that's just my brother talking about my innate ability to tell stories with no point whatsoever!) I've finished my coffee and have chewed about 4 pieces of nicorette, now what? If it were up to me I would take off on a plane to London and take a flat for about 2 weeks and go visit all the places my favorite writers visited, the cafes, the parks. Maybe meet some dashing English man and have tea. Ah, dreams!

Film part deux

2008-05-04T08:39:00.002-05:00

Before I go any further I need to make some clarifications about my use of the metaphor film in my last post. I am afraid that I've not got some of the terms associated with photography down and in that regard misused some of them. The fact that I lived a sheltered life growing up means to me that I experienced certain things and never got to process them, and also that I never got to experience certain things in the first place, therefore a "picture" was never even taken. At present I am an unexposed roll of film--I have yet to create the pictures I want to--at the same time there are rolls of film in my life that have pictures on them, I've just never bothered to flesh them out. Being an unexposed roll of film is not such a bad thing--it just means I've got some work to do. I need to take the time to be in the moment and not always be in the dark room thinking about the moment. Does that make sense?

I broke my foot about a year ago and I had to wear an orthopaedic boot for 2 months. How did I break the foot? I missed a step in 4 inch heels! Not the best story. However since this past Tuesday the same foot has been hurting and it has gotten worse even though I have tried to stay off it. I am terrified that it is broken again, but maybe it is just a bad bruise. I finally broke down and got fitted for some trail shoes yesterday--I knew my old shoes were not giving me enough support and thought it could be the origin of my foot problems. I got up this morning early and just knew I couldn't stay inside all day. I felt the outdoors beckoning to me to come out. So I got my coffee and put on my new trail shoes and sat in the gazebo on a swing and just thought and listened to the fountain in the pond. I wasn't exactly wearing exercise garb, but I decided I couldn't just sit there any longer. I put my coffee away and began walking around the pond and I walked out the silver painted gate to my woods. My foot was aching but I just ignored it. I felt called to climb my hill and worship among the trees and shrubs and wildflowers. Of course now even after a hot shower my foot is hurting still, but it was so worth it!

I am working on a black and white issue again. My identity seems to be changing and as much as I want the change to come, I am fearful. Heretofore I have been very materialistic and have put much emphasis on appearances. Today I don't give a damn. I haven't touched a hair dryer in over 3 weeks and it feels so liberating. I have completely given up on wearing shoes that even though they look good hurt my feet like hell. I'm not "letting myself go" per se, but I am letting go of a part of myself that I haven't liked in quite awhile. I have too many shoes. There, I said it. I don't want the life I used to want anymore. I want a different sort of life--a life of simplicity and experience. I don't want to be known as the person "with all the shoes". I want people to see me in a different light. I know in order for this to happen I have to change the way I present myself to the world. But I think I am ready. I've always known who I was, I've just pushed it aside preferring to be someone else. I am tired now though and want to feel comfortable in my own skin, not someone else's. I am tired of comparing myself to other people and coming up short. I don't want to compare myself to anyone but me. I want to be accountable to me, no one else. I can do this, but it will not be an easy transition and I will question myself all the way, wondering again and again "Who am I?" My soul knows who I am and if I listen very closely to the beating of my heart, I will begin a journey that will make all the difference in the world to me.

Film

2008-05-02T13:35:00.003-05:00

I feel like I am a roll of film yet to be exposed--and I have no idea what sorts of "pictures" would show up once I, the film, was developed, exposed to the light. In some ways I have been prohibited from being developed all my life; some would call this living a "sheltered life". I wondered today though what would happen if I was exposed to the light, if my pictures got developed properly--what would they show, what would they not show, what could I learn? I think the time has come for me to step out of the canister and allow life to develop me. That's what develops us right? Life? Experience? Walks in the woods and meeting new people, staying awake for the finale and laughing until your stomach aches, sobbing when you've had a bad day and smiling when someone you love calls you just to say "I love you"--It is very easy to pack our emotions away and not really feel them, just sort of live life and never process it. But we lose so much when we don't allow ourselves to be present for life, not just show up and make the motions. It is easier to be unconscious and just follow the person in front of you, do what they do, eat supper and go to bed. However, I do believe that the returns on living an examined, developed, processed life are well worth the hardships.

Of course the next step is to act on what you find. Change your job, move to a new town, let go of that unhealthy relationship even if it means being lonely for a bit, learn to be more grateful, find the courage to say yes and say no....I have made many an excuse for not taking the steps I needed to not only examine my life, but to also act on my life, and act LOUD. I let myself believe that other people are the stumbling block in my life, that this person is holding me back because they don't want me to get hurt or be disappointed. That isn't true, and I know that to my core. I couldn't help that some of my life's film was not developed in my childhood, but now, there's no excuse. Any thing that stops me from becoming the individual I truly desire to be is something that I have consciously or unconsciously allowed.

It is difficult for me to accept all this responsibility--it goes against everything I've been told in my multiple years of therapy. It is empowering though to know that change is in my hands and not someone else's. It is empowering to know that I can pop the top and let my life process all the rolls of film I've got that have been sitting in the corner waiting. There are some things that I cannot change and I must accept these limitations, but oh how many things I can change! Or keep the same! Examination doesn't always lead to change; sometimes it backs you up and lets you know that you are indeed doing the right thing with your life. The important aspect of all of this is to be present, to act LOUD, to experience everything with fervor, the sadness and the madness and the happy days.

I am still walking in the woods and I just get giddy when 4 o'clock rolls around and I know it is time to go home. I think of putting on my socks and shoes and heading out that door. I think of climbing that hill, knowing that I possess everything I need to do it again. I think of how wonderfully sad I feel when I close the door behind me, leaving the squirrels and rabbits and chipmunks, the trees and the Cherokee Rose, the river and the fishermen. My soul fills itself up here and I am whole again.

I want to thank the anonymous person who left a post on my blog--you have have no idea what you did for me, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for taking the time to write those words.

The Immaterial World

2008-04-21T11:42:00.010-05:00

....and there are still moments in my day when I think I just can't make it any longer....like now, on my lunch break, not really hungry, listening to Gomez, and I just want to go home and take a walk--get outside and feel my heart beating, feel the breeze upon my back, feel the rocks underneath my feet that make me sure that I am where I am supposed to be....I lost something awhile ago. It was the most precious thing I had ever possessed. My heart shattered when I lost it and I didn't think I'd ever be okay. But, something happened in the air last week and fate took a different turn than I was expecting. What I had lost suddenly appeared in my life! I didn't realize that such a big piece of me went missing when I lost it. I feel so much more whole now that it's back within my reach. I feel beautiful again, I feel so much more at peace. I looked so hard for something to replace that piece with and I failed at every turn because nothing could take its place, ever. Thank you.

I don't feel young today. I feel like I've been here for ages and I'm worn out. I'm tired of this skin and this life. I want another one, a new one. I want to cocoon myself so I can emerge as a butterfly, a yellow one, the kind that you see among the green leaves in the woods. I want to build a cabin in the woods and live there. I want an old oak bed with old quilts and a rocking chair on the front porch. I want to sit and rock for hours, just thinking and breathing the air of the trees. I'd like to find my own tree and find a place to sit in it, get a different view than the one I have from the ground. Being outside is spiritual to me now. I finally have a glimpse of what the woods have always meant to my brother and father. I never knew until now. I had no idea. I can't believe I've gone 33 years without this tremendous knowledge. I am grateful that I opened the door and stepped outside. No one can ever keep me in again.

This post is dedicated to Lawton and Daddy. May you forever find your peace within the moments that can only be found in the woods and may I be able to join you one day so that we may together commune with nature. Thank you for being the men that you are.

Corrections and a bit of Cognitive Dissonance

2008-04-10T08:34:00.004-05:00

(I think I might have been looking at my life a little too literally when I checked in last time. I tend to look at things as either black or white. Often I don't see the grey. And the majority of life is found in the grey, in moderation, in compromise, in the in between. I have a vast amount of time on my hands and it is my own fault for misusing it. There is nothing stopping me from learning and using my time to better my self. I have chosen to stare, stare at the screen, stare into the air. Enough, enough she says....I will use my time more wisely, end of story.)

You've heard about the Hermes orange shoes that were my first Spring shoe purchase? Well I have worn them so much now that they are a little stretched! But I love them, I love the color, I love the shape, I love the way my feet feel when I walk, they make me feel like a modern-day Hepburn. So....Church's English Shoes--a very conservative shoe company that has been in business for decades. They make traditional loafers and wing-tips for men and some of the same for women. Whoever is at the helm of Church's has a great sense of fashion and knows how to turn the most boring loafer into something that has zest, zip, and make a very unique contribution to the world of shoes. Case in point: Warm green leather loafers. Sounds a bit "off", yes? I thought so too, at first. Yet I was drawn to them in many ways. I began to deconstruct what it was that was making them seem so off, was it the color, was it the wrong hue of green, or was it the fact that a traditional loafer usually done in brown was now the color of grass? Of course I had to try them on to see what was going on, so I did....and it all made sense. The green reminded me of my old Mary Jane Doc Martens I wore in college and the style was one that I have always loved, a good, old-fashioned loafer. It was a sort of cognitive dissonance. The color was pulling at my memory while the style was playing with my eye for practical yet fashionable shoes.

I had to have some help in knowing how I was to wear these shoes. Do they go with black? Brown? Other colors? So, today I am wearing neutral-patterned cropped pants with the green loafers. I'll admit it is a bit strange, but I like being able to have something about me that doesn't match with all the other things. I've become so conservative in the past few years that it is good to pull out a pair of green loafers to get me out of the ruts I get in. I am excited that I have a color upon me that reminds me of my greatest days at Emory and that I am also bopping along in a comfortable pair of loafers that I can wear year-round! As it turns out, a bit of dissonance can be good for the spirit....

Butterflies

2008-04-06T13:49:00.004-05:00

Love eludes me now. I am chasing after butterflies that go nowhere but up and into the sky. Perhaps I need some sort of net to catch them, bring them home, make them mine. Ah but how could I ever trap such creatures. I want them to come to me on their own. I want them to want to be mine. I am trying to be mindful of my life, moment by moment, but it is proving hard as minutes turn to hours to days and I lose track of where I was the moment before. It is only here when I write that I am fully engaged and fully where I need and want to be.

It is Sunday, and I hate Sundays. They are a precursor to Monday. Saturday sits alone in between Friday and Sunday. It has nothing of the week before or ahead attached to it. Sunday begets Sunday night and that means you wake up to the week. Friday begets Saturday morning and that is when the day is all alone and untouched by the week. Why am I so anxious about the week? It is a time when no time is my own and when I am somewhat owned by another, my job. Each day I spend 9 hours of my life unengaged and acting as a robot would with no emotion and no sense of the day outside. I watch the clock to see how much more time I have left to be this automaton and the days seems to last for years. Every day is like this, until Friday comes and then comes a brief end to my wasted hours. Then comes Saturday.

I rue each day that I must spend wasting the precious hours of my life. I will never get them back you see. They are gone. Each week, 45 hours, gone. I imagine what could I do with 45 hours a week and the options are endless! I could learn a new language in one week and begin a novel in the next. Every day would be a Saturday, full of possibilities. I am aware that 99% of the world spends their lives in just this way, but that doesn't make it any easier for me to do it. And somehow the paycheck at the end of the week doesn't matter because I got paid to be a robot, not to share my talents with the rest of the world. I wish I got paid on Saturdays, for those are the days of my dreams.

The Driveway

2008-04-04T14:19:00.007-05:00

I want a driveway, somewhere to pull into and park my car, my own special parking place. I want a driveway, with grass on either side and maybe a potted plant near the house. I want a driveway that I can back out of, that I can walk down to get my mail, from my own mailbox. I haven't had a driveway since I left home for college. I've always lived in an apartment or a condominium where I've had to share my parking spaces with other people, where my mailbox was jumbled up next to someone else's.

I'm not sure why I just want the driveway and not the house. I do want a house, but it scares me a bit. I am scared that I won't decorate it properly, that my mother will be so disappointed in my taste, or I won't have any taste, or my taste will be too country. (No, I know my taste isn't country) I definitely do not want many rooms. I like to "live" in one room and have a few others that I just visit every now and then. I would love to have a true master bathroom with lots of storage and a giant tub with a separate shower. Oh and I would love to have a wonderful chair right next to my bed, close to my bookshelves, where I can curl up and read for hours. A yellow chair. I am fine with my queen-sized bed, but a king-sized would be glorious, wouldn't it? And I want my bookshelves to be in my bedroom, I want to keep them a bit private. I could have decorative bookshelves in the den, but my precious books, they need to be near me when I sleep. I would have a kitchen too, a clean and precise kitchen, done in blue and yellow, French country would be my preference.

So maybe I do want a house and a driveway!

Dreaming: A Day in My Life 5 Years Down the Road

2008-03-19T14:22:00.002-05:00

I wake up at 6 and groggily put on my Pilates clothes and head out the door for a 6:30 class. At 7:20 I pick up my first Starbucks latte and head back home to get ready for work. Usually I am rushed, but I manage to put together a good outfit most of the time. I take a shower, wash and dry my hair, then get dressed which usually means black skinny pants, a crisp long-sleeved t-shirt,a sweater round my shoulders, and a pair of my favorite Louboutin flats. I mostly wear my hair down because secretly I am proud of it; it is a beautiful brown, long, straight, and very soft.

Around 8:15 I head off to the office. Today I have a meeting at 9 so it behooves me not to be late. I am meeting with the Editor-in-Chief of the magazine I work for, "British Vogue". We are going to talk today about a piece I want to do. I am really very passionate about my writing and so sometimes I tend to push too hard. I have to go slow on this one if I want to get it, so I am thinking of pleasing thoughts, feeling my Starbucks latte slowly go down my throat, loving the fact that I chose my orange Louboutin flats today as they are my current favorite. I can feel spring just coming up and the sun is high today. I feel energized and ready to face whatever challenges come. As I enter the office I say hello to Officer Chambliss, the security officer who sits in the lobby of my building. He and I have a rather friendly relationship and I always make sure I remember his birthday and Christmas. I get on the elevator with a few other people and press 11. On the ride up I look down at my shoes again and smile. I am unlike most women in the working world in that I do not use my briefcase as my purse. I must carry a purse at all times; I've always been that way. So, my briefcase must be minimal. I carry an old small messenger bag for my briefcase and today I am carrying my most favorite purse, the classic black Jackie-O bag from Gucci. Floor 11 rings and I step off.

I open the glass doors that lead into the magazine's main office and smile at Margaret, our receptionist. She smiles back and asks about my weekend. I do the same and hop off to my office for a quick review of my research before the meeting. It is now 8:50 and I have ten minutes to settle in. I grab my water and drink as though I had never had anything to drink before! I grab my folder out of my briefcase, quickly look over the main points I outlined last night and head off to Charlotte's office,on the next floor. I take the stairs not wanting to wait for the elevator. She is at her desk looking over something but her door is open, so I gently knock and she looks up. "Come on in Mireille, how are you?" "Good morning Charlotte, I am well and you?" "Oh I've been better, but once this issues hits the stands I'll be doing just fine!" We chat about the latest issue and a few of the problems we've had with it. Since Charlotte is very direct and doesn't like to waste time, I decide to go ahead and present my research. She is very receptive and says fine, go ahead, you have my full support. I smile, clap my hands together and say, "Oh thank you!" I leave before she has time to realize that my research isn't complete yet and that I have alot of work to do to get this done in time.

I return to my office and realize I've already finished my coffee and it is only 9:30. I grab my purse and head to the corner of the street and grab another coffee then quickly get back to my office to begin the work of the day. When I get back to my office there is a parcel waiting for me. I am used to getting lots of parcels, as I am the style editor at British Vogue there are many people who want me to feature their products or clothes. Inside this parcel is a pair of grey cropped pants, just my size of course, with a note that says "thanks for the mention in last month's issue, I knew how much you loved these, love Adrien". How sweet, these will look great with my new yellow Brooks Brothers pullover. Adrien is an up and coming designer that I discovered while in the states a few months ago. His line is called simply "adrien" and it is made up of seperates that are all well-made and designed with clean, simple lines. However he loves to play with texture and loves to make clothes out of their designated season. For example the pants he sent me are cropped for the spring but have a tweed texture that one would typically see in a fall collection. The shade of grey they are done in makes them seasonless, but the red piping around the bottoms of the legs and the top of the waist make them spring!

Okay, so now I have my coffee, it is time to work. I begin my checking my email and trying to respond to most of them. I am eager to begin writing, so I undock my laptop, close my door and move to my plush armchair, (done in yellow corderoy and so lucious) and begin to write. I guess I lost track of time because the next time I look up it is nearly noon! I sit and think about what I've been writing and if it is any good, feeling a little giddy because I honestly think that it is. I stretch my legs and move back to my desk. Time for lunch which today is with my mother. We are going to meet at Heaping Bowl just down the street. I put on my sweater and head for the elevator. Of course I don't get very far because I've been shut in my office all morning. There are people that need my approval for this and that and really I don't care that much about it because I am still a bit high from my very productive morning. I dash into the elevator and head downstairs and down the street, not wanting to make my mother wait. She's there sitting at a table in the corner. I greet her with a hug and sit down, realizing I am very hungry. We both have the soup and salad with sparkling water. I am glad to see my mother and glad that she wants to see me. I don't have much time because I have another meeting at 1:30. We chat, eat, and then part.

When I get back to my office I gather my notes for the meeting. Some of the writers are getting together to discuss this month's assignments and who wants to write what. I usually let the writers do what they want and try never to force an assignment on them. I have learned that this produces forced writing and it never reads well. The meeting goes well, but I am still thinking about my writing this morning. I can't wait to get back to my office and read over it again, to see if it is what I have in my mind it is. By the time I finish answering emails and returning voice messages it is nearly 4 o'clock and I am getting tired. My eyes hurt, I think I need to have them checked. Perhaps I need stronger glasses. Marni stops by to chat and we talk for a bit until I realize I've got to make a last minute correction to the issue going to print! I caught an error last night that must be fixed. I dash down to where they are putting the issue together and ask if I am too late. They say yes, but let me change the text anyway. They know how picky I am and how it hurts me to see an error in print, especially when I should have caught it.

It has been a long day and I am ready to go home. I pack up my briefcase with the things I am going to work on at home and head out. I am so ready to climb into my bed and sleep for a bit. I just need to decompress and think for a while. I get home and change clothes, get some water, and get into bed. I sleep for an hour and then get up and begin reviewing what I was working on this morning. I work for about 2 hours and then get ready for bed. I am glad the day is over, but feel good about what I've done. As I set my alarm I am glad that tomorrow morning I have no Pilates so I get to sleep in a bit longer.

That Guilty Feeling

2008-03-03T14:39:00.007-05:00

I have two things I want to write about this afternoon. First I want to tackle in a very brief way the subject of guilt. I truly believe that guilt can stop anyone in their tracks and take them off any course they were on. Guilt takes all the confidence you have, rips it to shreds then puts the pieces back in your pocket to carry around all day, all night, all week, for however long you will keep the pieces. Guilt weighs you down and makes it harder for you to walk. If you have enough guilt, you can hardly walk at all, you kind of just push one foot in front of the other as if you were carrying a 100 pound bag of sand. I think the worst kind of guilt is the kind that we bring on ourselves--the kind where we make a decision and then replay the decision in a different light and change thought. We then think we have made a terrible decision and the guilt just starts creeping on in. The guilt that I am thinking about right now involves not wanting to stand up and take responsibility for a decision I made and realize that I am an adult and no one is going to chastise me for making it. I need to accept my role in letting the guilt creep in. I opened the door. I have never thought of it that way before. I have always thought that guilt was something that others did to me, not something I allowed to happen. I see now that all those pieces I carry around in my pockets that keep me from bouncing are because I opened the door to let the monster in. I would like to be like Tigger from Winnie the Pooh, I would like to be that joyful, that light and carefree. I don't think Tigger even has pockets! I think there is a place for guilt as we all make mistakes and for some of these mistakes guilt is a necessary corollary. However for all those small things we feel guilty about day to day, it is time to empty our pockets and put a spring back in our step!

On a lighter note: Tonight is Pilates. My teacher is letting me really touch the sky and I am working very hard. So, how do you exercise and not look like a frumpy slouch? You buy the proper clothes and use those clothes only for workouts. I have about 4 pairs of Pilates pants, just loose, comfortable pants that keep me cool and allow me to move around, not sweatpants, not jogging pants, pants made for doing Pilates and Yoga. I keep the look going by always wearing a long-sleeved white t-shirt on top. It keeps the look crisp and non-grungy. I do not wear baggy old t-shirts with logos on them from my college days or souvenir t-shirts I picked up at Disney World. I feel good when I dress appropriately for my workouts because I look like I am set to do some good, make my body feel good, clear my mind. I don't need to go out to dinner in my outfit, nor do I need to prance all about Atlanta. I am set to go and do Pilates, nothing more, nothing less. I am prepared and know that I can feel good about making changes to my body because I am already dressed to do so!

She's Back!!!!

2008-02-16T21:04:00.004-05:00

Well, it has been almost two years since I last wrote here on my blog and since then my blog has been overtaken by my sister's and my brother's. That's right, they both had children in 2006 and started blogging so that we could all keep up with one another. I however completely neglected my own blog. Quel horreur!
It is the same time of year that I wrote before, February and spring shoe season and yes I have already gotten a head start. Today I purchased a pair of lovely Hermes orange skimmers by Louboutin. Actually it has been a while since I let myself delve into fashion. Since winter began last year I have been decked out in khaki's and fleece and clogs. I decided to give the whole "fashion" thing a rest and make sure my soul was intact, a sort of purification ritual of sorts I guess. I can't say that it made me feel any better. When you are cold and feeling the winter blues, dressing in black pants and black fleece with thick socks and ugly shoes can make you feel even worse.
I haven't let go of the wonderful Dansko clogs that my father gave me for Christmas and my jeans are still my most favorite items of clothing, but I am going to try to dress a bit more for success and opportunity than for just the weather. It is possible to do both I know. I am looking for a new job right now and am working on some writing samples to submit to magazines in hopes of finding somewhere new to hang my hat. I have given in to fear and have stifiled my own creativity for the past year. I understand now that I have only damaged myself. I need my writing to keep my heart and soul alive, otherwise I am just a shell of a being. So, as a late New Year's resolution I am resolving to pay attention to my own blog and write away. The only person stopping me is myself! Next time I'll give you the low down on my latest obsession: Pilates!!!! (And yes, I will reveal how I keep myself looking good while exercising even though Pilates require no shoes!)

Summer Rain

2006-07-20T21:56:00.000-05:00

As I returned home from a long day of teaching, the rain began to fall. It had been so hot all week--I was mad as hell at anyone I could think to blame for the heat. At last a break, the beautiful juxtaposition of heat and rain forcing the memories to my mind, the smell of rain splashing on the asphalt--I felt giddy, like a child. I rushed upstairs to put up my groceries, change my clothes, so that I could get back outside--I was going to play in the rain, for the first time in my grown-up memory. Sadly, the rain began to soften when I got out the door. Nonetheless, I pulled out a chair by the pool, sat in the wet seat, and leaned my head back to catch the rain in my mouth. I could have fallen asleep, the calm of the slow, steady, drip drip of the rain on my face and arms. I really wanted to get soaked, soaked all the way through--but there was not enough rain to wash me clean, at least not today. I'm keeping my eyes out for another rain, in hopes that the meaningless details of my life do not get in the way of my search for a cool relief.

Mireille

Being the Barefoot Princess--an introduction

2006-01-30T16:10:00.000-05:00

January 30, 2006

I have decided to introduce you to my blog, "Being the Barefoot Princess", with an essay I recently wrote, which will give you an idea as to what this "blog" (I really hate that word, the sound, the letters, everything about it--I am going to come up with a better word for this) will be about. I hope that you enjoy--Mireille, the Barefoot Princess

For most of us winter is just beginning, there is much more cold weather to come, and it is not yet the time to pack up our cashmere sweaters, shearling lined boots, and long warm coats. However, in the world of fashion spring has already begun. Buyers have already attended the spring 2006 fashion shows and bought the lines they will carry for spring. In the stores their purchases are beginning to be displayed. Winter clothes are already on sale, resort lines almost done, and spring clothes and shoes are out in full force. With snow still falling and temperatures still dropping, it is often hard to imagine oneself in the new spring collections: white, crisp, short-sleeved shirts, cropped and tailored khakis, and “pedicure-required” sandals and wedges.
Even though I personally prefer my cashmere to the thin, cool, fabrics of spring and summer, I cannot help but venture out in the cold of January to satisfy my curiosity as to what the next season has to offer. I can even summon a slight desire for warmer weather when I catch a glimpse of a lovely, girlish white spring dress by Marni, or a pair of slim “Pixie” khaki pants by Tory Burch. However, the new spring shoes are the very first things that I look at.
It has become a yearly ritual for me—going to my favorite shoe shops to see what my favorite shoe designers have proffered for spring. This first January visit is usually meant to be just a glance, just a “look-see”, browsing, not the time yet for purchases. Nevertheless, the spring collections this year absolutely did me in--by this I mean my usually short “visits”, turned into rather lengthy “stays”. I was thrilled to see the delicate, simple, and so very feminine ballet flats by Azzedine Alaia, the equally as feminine satin strapped wedges by Prada, and the wonderful navy leather peep-toe heels by Christian Louboutin.
Since the rise of the flat last spring, I have traded in my heels preferring to walk about in the way of Audrey Hepburn in my black suede Alaia ballet shoes from last season, and my grey flannel Louboutin flats from the fall. I knew that the flat would not go away soon, but I did not imagine that in this 2006 spring season the flat would come back in so many magnificent ways. Of course the flat this year has again been juxtaposed against the wedge, which for 2006 has gone away from last spring’s simple cork and espadrille styles, to a much more embellished wedge—the jewels on Dior, the stitched leather on Clergerie, and the floral appliqué on Miu Miu. I have given the wedge a good try, but alas to no avail—I keep turning my ankle! And believe me, this is far from graceful.

In the first store that I visited I made a beeline to Prada sport, knowing the consistency of the line, how well they fit me, and how amazingly comfortable the shoes from this collection have always been. It did not take more than two minutes for me to see “my” shoes—pale pink leather flats that literally looked exactly like the ballet shoes I wore when I was six years old. I absolutely could not resist asking the salesperson to bring me a pair in my size. I put them on and immediately wanted to grab the barre and do a proper plié. I looked down at my feet and became absolutely giddy—I think I might have even blushed! The decision was made and in a complete diversion from my look-see mindset, I bought those beautiful pink shoes. I quickly threw out all of my knowledge about seasonal colors and textures, freed those pink ballets from their box and tissue, and wore them the very next day.
On the second day of my spring shoe previews I took a long time walking around the store. Fortunately the salesperson that I usually work with was engaged with another customer at the time, so I figured I was safe from any diversions. As I walked past the woven, kiltie flats from Bottega Veneta, and the suede pointed “loafer” interpretation of the classic Blahnik ballet, the patent leather wedge from Prada and the simple leather top-stitched sandal from Henry Begulin, I stopped for a second in front of a Lanvin display. There was a pair of shoes in two metallic shades that piqued my interest. I have never been a big fan of metallic colors, and the shoes were very basic, not much obvious construction to them. Still, since last season I had been keeping my eye out for the Lanvin line to appear in this store. My good friend and also salesperson at the store arrived as I was mulling over the shoes. I expressed excitement to see Lanvin in the store, as well as my dislike for the metallic colors being shown.
As is my fate, I picked up one of the Lanvin shoes, slipped it on my foot and my friend disappeared to the back to procure a pair in my size. And again I had seriously veered from the agenda for the visit. The shoes came out in a deep black box with Lanvin written in its signature capital gold letters. They went on my feet like slippers, bare, and I stood up and smiled, for I had found a second treasure. The shoes are not truly flat; they have a clever built-in heel that cannot be seen from the outside of the shoe. They stretched out effortlessly and hugged the perimeter of my feet, coming up just far enough to keep them on my feet, not far enough to cover my high arch, and hitting the top of my foot in that perfect spot that discreetly shows a bit of “toe cleavage”. As the repeat goes, these shoes also came home with me, and also were spared a month’s time in the box.

No matter the rhyme or reason, I have an intense love affair with my shoes, the ones I already own, and the ones that are in my future. I have “found” the perfect shoes to build my spring wardrobe around; now I just have to hope and pray that I don’t wear these fabulous shoes out before the sun starts to melt the snow and nature’s spring begins.