Sometimes I have issues with finding that right pair of soles.
It wasn't until working in a shoe retailing environment that I've gained so much knowledge on different footwear brands, the fit of particular styles, the quality of the shoe, where it was made, and how to provide excellent customer shoe-vice. Neither would I have the opportunity to be able to try on multiple pairs of shoes in the stockroom when the sales floor is not busy; ranging from innocently cute flats to skeptical sky high heels.
As much as I crush on some of these gorgeous foot candy, it saddens me when the one I've been eyeing for the longest time falls short of my expectations. Too flat for my feet. Tight around the calf. Not me. Too pointed. Colour is a no. Just too much. Sometimes, I'm tempted to buying a size too large just because everything else fits and that pair just happens to be on sale. So its a dilemma between buying my size for full price or waiting for sales and risking my size being gone OR filling big shoes.
Don't we all wish we could fit into shoes that were too big for us miraculously? I have been feeling the need to do just such. Lately, I've been reminded of my duties as a christian. Christians are suppose to be Christ-like, were suppose to love, give, and show the care that Jesus did when he was on Earth. Ideally, we should live a life fulfilling God's purpose for us, by using our God given talents to share the word with others. We are all called to fill big shoes-shoes too wide, shoes too long, shoes that slip, shoes that may even trip us. All the while, people will ridicule us for wearing footwear that doesn't fit properly, and we will feel stupid having done such an act. But if were are able to do so, others will point to our feet and go, "Hey, look at that person, their capable of wearing shoes too big for them, and still walk normally!"
I don't think I have been working on fitting His shoes. Not at all. I like being comfortable and having proper fitted shoes. If I'm wearing runners, there better be shoe laces to tie myself into or Velcro to secure my feet in place. As with heels, the heel of my foot better not slip out when I walk or give my foot blisters by the end of the day. Some days, I don't even notice what I put on, the action of putting on shoes has become routine. I dress according to my personal interests and motives and don't think twice about His plans. Shoes are an essential part of our attire, they protect us in every step of our walk. Everyone needs shoes. Everyone yearns to find the perfect pair. Everyone has their reasons to buying shoes, but we tend to equate big shoes with not being the right fit for us.
I know I have big shoes to fill. and it's not easy wearing shoes too big for me. The distress of stumbling and even falling out of my shoes will be a struggle. I know I can overcome this though; walking by faith and not by what is sensible.
What is right for one [sole], might not be right for another. It may mean having to stand on your own and do something strange in the eyes of others.
-Anonymous
Thankful.
Uno.Dos.Tres
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Friday, October 7, 2011
Playing Judge {dos}
Its one matter to have an expressive voice, but another matter to release words, even unspoken words in an unruly manner.
I have always acknowledge the power of one's voice. I never believed in that century old saying:
"Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me" -Unknown
As cliche as this line is, I always considered it to be thirteen words of falsity. Other than being literally correct, who ever came up with this was oblivious to the strength of one's speech. I'm voicing bluntly, but I remain genuine in what I have to say.
I never thought I would be accused of my own words. Maybe when I was younger, but definitely not now. A friend told me earlier this week that I was judging her: I was judging her for her actions, I was judging her for something she had done, I was judging her by my voice, which didn't even speak outloud. It all came down to the verdict of a text message. That was what initiated the accusations imposed upon me by my dear friend. Who would've thought that a mere ten words or less could've sparked trial and sent me to the court of friendship?
To say I was hurt by her choice of words would be an understatement. I felt as if her tone of voice shattered me as high notes quiver glass. It brought back memories of grade school and how I would be accused of lying, passing on a rumor and even leaking the highest pinky-swear code of a friendship: letting a secret out. I admit I wasn't the "best" friend to have when I was younger. I didn't know what was my right to be shared, even if I had made a promise. Thus, throughout elementary I had best friends that in my friendship equation converted to just 'good' friends, to even what I eventually termed 'bad' friends.
So, I made a decision to change myself. I would be honest, use what logic a eight to ten year old had to make right from wrong decisions and make an effort to keep my mouth shut when told secrets. I wanted to maintain my friendships and be a "best" friend my friends could have. This planned was pretty effective and as I grew older, I would take the first step to say "sorry," I would write a letter to ensure my friend wasn't mad at me, and I would definitely ask for forgiveness when I broke the law book of friendship.
All in all, I'm not boasting that I'm a great friend now, because I'm just as human as all my friends are-flawed. To this day I don't designate anyone as my best friend, perhaps because of my loss and gain cycle of friends back in my childhood. Yet, having this close friend accused me was painstakingly awful. It felt like a rendition of a past voice from my encyclopedia of bad mouthing friendships. Yes, she may have said it out of her emotions, but little did she know the effect it had on me.
When the prolonging of her voice slowly trailed off, I was able to reflect on the conflict underlying our words. After a quick meditation, I couldn't let this horrendous feeling linger in me nor her. I decided to take the first step as I had done when I was younger, but in a 21st century sympathetic manner, via text message (due to the setting we were in, this was the quickest means and sometimes it's way easier to confront silently than face to face). I worded my sorry carefully while still showering my opinionated voice in a way that was sincere, rather than in an attitude-giving kind of way as I had done with the first text. I never thought that the initial statement I had sent would've made her think that I was better than her, but in all honesty, I realize the intention of my words what I hadn't at the time.
She was right. I was judging.
With my mouth, I reasoned it as care, but in her eyes, my alignment of words were raucous. I was a revised version of the bad friend self I was more than a decade ago. And that feeling was worse than the agonizing chill she had sent me.
Fortunately, some things don't change and being the initiator revitalized the situation. My apology had not only released our tug of words, but it also opened up my friend to share with me how my strong voice was the last blow to her current struggles.
It may be a different situation, a different friend, a different set of words, a different means of communicating, but the message will always remain the same. Sometimes, it just takes more than one trial to realize the truth in one's voice.
and the accusations were dropped
I have always acknowledge the power of one's voice. I never believed in that century old saying:
"Sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me" -Unknown
As cliche as this line is, I always considered it to be thirteen words of falsity. Other than being literally correct, who ever came up with this was oblivious to the strength of one's speech. I'm voicing bluntly, but I remain genuine in what I have to say.
I never thought I would be accused of my own words. Maybe when I was younger, but definitely not now. A friend told me earlier this week that I was judging her: I was judging her for her actions, I was judging her for something she had done, I was judging her by my voice, which didn't even speak outloud. It all came down to the verdict of a text message. That was what initiated the accusations imposed upon me by my dear friend. Who would've thought that a mere ten words or less could've sparked trial and sent me to the court of friendship?
To say I was hurt by her choice of words would be an understatement. I felt as if her tone of voice shattered me as high notes quiver glass. It brought back memories of grade school and how I would be accused of lying, passing on a rumor and even leaking the highest pinky-swear code of a friendship: letting a secret out. I admit I wasn't the "best" friend to have when I was younger. I didn't know what was my right to be shared, even if I had made a promise. Thus, throughout elementary I had best friends that in my friendship equation converted to just 'good' friends, to even what I eventually termed 'bad' friends.
So, I made a decision to change myself. I would be honest, use what logic a eight to ten year old had to make right from wrong decisions and make an effort to keep my mouth shut when told secrets. I wanted to maintain my friendships and be a "best" friend my friends could have. This planned was pretty effective and as I grew older, I would take the first step to say "sorry," I would write a letter to ensure my friend wasn't mad at me, and I would definitely ask for forgiveness when I broke the law book of friendship.
All in all, I'm not boasting that I'm a great friend now, because I'm just as human as all my friends are-flawed. To this day I don't designate anyone as my best friend, perhaps because of my loss and gain cycle of friends back in my childhood. Yet, having this close friend accused me was painstakingly awful. It felt like a rendition of a past voice from my encyclopedia of bad mouthing friendships. Yes, she may have said it out of her emotions, but little did she know the effect it had on me.
When the prolonging of her voice slowly trailed off, I was able to reflect on the conflict underlying our words. After a quick meditation, I couldn't let this horrendous feeling linger in me nor her. I decided to take the first step as I had done when I was younger, but in a 21st century sympathetic manner, via text message (due to the setting we were in, this was the quickest means and sometimes it's way easier to confront silently than face to face). I worded my sorry carefully while still showering my opinionated voice in a way that was sincere, rather than in an attitude-giving kind of way as I had done with the first text. I never thought that the initial statement I had sent would've made her think that I was better than her, but in all honesty, I realize the intention of my words what I hadn't at the time.
She was right. I was judging.
With my mouth, I reasoned it as care, but in her eyes, my alignment of words were raucous. I was a revised version of the bad friend self I was more than a decade ago. And that feeling was worse than the agonizing chill she had sent me.
Fortunately, some things don't change and being the initiator revitalized the situation. My apology had not only released our tug of words, but it also opened up my friend to share with me how my strong voice was the last blow to her current struggles.
It may be a different situation, a different friend, a different set of words, a different means of communicating, but the message will always remain the same. Sometimes, it just takes more than one trial to realize the truth in one's voice.
and the accusations were dropped
Thursday, October 6, 2011
Fallen Reflection {uno}
Splashes of warm colours on tree branches, whiplash of morning breezes, and lingering gray skies is how Mother Nature welcomes us to her Fall season. The weather can be such a reflection of one's mood. Sometimes a chime of contentment like the bright colours we see, other times, a hit of gloom as quick as that once beautiful sight that leaves us.
This natural phenomenon is depicting my transition. Though, I have come to appreciate the beauty of Autumn despite placing this season as my least favorite in the past. The return of busier and stressful school days has restarted a race in my mind. Once the whistle blows, I need to finish that next match... of assignments, even though my spirit yearns for a ceasing of time and a period of serenity. I want to be the hare all the time, I want to keep up, I want to stay ahead. But when I reflect on this mentality, I am envious at how the tortoise can be at ease going slow and steady, and yet, still hit the finish line. Or just the mere fact that the tortoise is able to balance more races than me and am capable of doing so brilliantly.
I think during these races, I have lost track of my surroundings, and the importance of other matters that are more significant than understanding that next concept by the books. I may have won a race, but I am losing out to myself.
I am falling short as the leaves are falling off of this season.
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