Walking on Sunset Boulevard in Silverlake with a group of friends on Saturday, a stranger approached me and said “you need new shoes.” I was surprised at her comment. We had just finished a delightful meal at a local Thai establishment, after sharing our updated goals for the year and ways we would be accountable to each other. I opted to wear a pair of white sandals that were made by Minnesota Moccasin company, that had turquoise embellishments. These were sandals I loved in theory but I wasn’t ready to let go of them. I wanted to “wear them to the ground,” to know I got the full use out of them.
“They are not fitting right on you. You need new shoes. I need new shoes too.” My friends looked at her with a sense of curiosity in their faces, as she walked by. All were wondering was she was trying to sell me shoes? This was Sunset Boulevard after all. As she strolled by us, another woman began stating out loud with her dog “We are on Sunset on a Saturday night.” Was she livestreaming on a social media site? Nope, she was just in the midst of a psychotic episode.
As we reflected on both of these two women juxtaposed to each other, we walked up a little hill. A helicopter circled around us. My friend opened up her neighbor app, which stated an armed individual was nearby. We didn’t know what to do, keep walking, try to hide? “Another night in Los Angeles,” one of my friends shared. Was this a regular night? A stranger telling you to get new shoes, a psychotic woman, a helicopter police chase, armed gunmen, and processing goals for one’s life with friends at a delicious restaurant. Perhaps it was a typical day. It was a mixture of wonder, appreciation, fear, confusion, and joy. This is life in today’s world, and it was playing out in our small atmosphere.
“You need new shoes.” Despite all that happened, this was the comment that stayed with me for the rest of the weekend. Perhaps this woman was right. Why was I holding onto old shoes trying to get the most use out of them? The fact was the more I used these particular shoes, the less I could use all the other shoes in my closet. I had more than enough shoes, I didn’t need new ones, I just needed to get rid of these. And so later in the week, I did just that. I not only got rid of this particular pair of shoes, but three other ones that were waiting to be given away. I did it with pleasure, as I offered up space for me to see what I actually own and take joy in using my other belongings.
This stranger’s comment served as a current lesson in my life. How often do we take wisdom from strangers or a passerby’s comments? There are textures to conversations, interpretations we can make from metaphorical statements. I wasn’t just getting rid of shoes, I was getting rid of that which I have overgrown and that which doesn’t serve me. I was creating space in my life to welcome in the beauty that already exists.
It Only Takes A Smile 