Chris,

It was a perfect sunny Sunday when I took a walk in your shoes. I’d wanted to go check out a lake that I always see from the road when I go for groceries. It is actually quite close to your neighborhood, and I couldn’t help but imagine that you had walked there in those shoes before. Not that I’d recommend that particular combination of shoes and place to walk. Maybe it will (or has been) different for you, because they fit you a little better. For me, your shoes were just unfamiliar enough to make negotiating the hills a little difficult.

I have a pair of slip-on shoes that I love, and will wear almost anywhere. Perhaps these fill the same niche in your shoe collection. They were just similar enough that I would begin to forget about them, just as I would my own shoes. Then, I would notice their weight (slightly heavier than mine) or their height (slightly taller), and my stride would change. I didn’t fall, or even stumble, but when I noticed slight difference I no longer walked as naturally. The experience was a little like being in a house with a similar floor-plan to one that you have lived in, but being unable to find the light switch.

Even though it was a gorgeous day, there were not many other people out walking. The lake was bordered with people fishing, both alone and in small groups. I have always thought of fishing a very gentlemanly form of hunting. Although the whole cycle of life and death being played out before me was amazing, my thoughts did not linger on such weighty topics. It was enough just to be outside walking in the sun.

At about the half-mile mark some rocks found their way into the holes in the heel of your left shoe. It’s amazing how something so small can change the entire balance of the shoe. They also rattled in a very pleasing way as I walked. Maybe this is the appeal of those bell bedecked ankle chains. Anyway, I am giving you the rocks (separate from the shoes) that you should feel free to do with as you pleas: keep as a memento, throw out in the yard, or even put back in the shoe.

Thank you for the opportunity to walk a mile in your shoes.

 

Sincerely,
Sara, shoe borrower