The Metaphysics of Shoes

Balboa Press

Contents

Acknowledgments.........................................xiIntroduction: For the Love of Shoes.....................xiii1 Baby Shoes............................................12 Dancing Shoes.........................................83 A Man and His Gators..................................194 Stilettos.............................................265 Shoe Shine............................................336 Footprints in the Snow................................457 In His Shoes..........................................568 Lucky Shoes...........................................689 Bloody Soles..........................................7610 Broken Heel..........................................8911 Bowling Shoes........................................10112 Royal Sandals........................................114In Summary..............................................130Conclusion..............................................132About the Author........................................136

Chapter One

IT HAD BEEN COLD THAT day. She'd taken extra care to bundle up her one-year-old baby girl for the long bus ride downtown. She had walked the three long blocks to the bus stop many times, but on that day, it seemed farther than usual. It was the same journey she had made on her way to the babysitter, both her jobs, and the grocery store. But she'd worked overtime the night before and slept only a few hours. Overtime meant a few more dollars to help make ends meet, so she worked the extra hours whenever possible. For a brief moment, she thought about turning around, but then she remembered that she had waited three weeks to get a Saturday appointment. So she did what she always did. Just around the time she reached the end of the second block, she held her baby girl a little tighter, adjusted the diaper bag on her shoulder, and moved her purse to the other hand. For the third time that day, she stopped to make sure the little brown paper bag she carried was neatly secured in the diaper bag. Each time she checked, it was there, safe.

When she arrived at the photography studio, there were several parents and children already waiting. She looked at the faces of the other parents and could see in their eyes that they wondered how old she was. She had seen that look many times in the past year. I should just shout it out, she thought. I'm eighteen, and yes, this is my baby—and no, I'm not married! Instead, she made her way to the last vacant seat in the waiting area, trying hard to avoid the stares she wanted so much to believe didn't matter to her.

She prepared herself for the long wait, which she didn't mind. It gave her an opportunity to warm up from the long journey. Her baby girl had fallen asleep on the bus ride and seemed heavier to carry. Nevertheless, the baby's limp body made it easier to maneuver the diaper bag, purse, gloves, hat, and the heavy clothing required for winter days in Michigan. She took great care not to wake the sleeping angel on her shoulder as she waited patiently like all the other parents.

Finally, when she was called, she leaped to her feet. The sudden move caused her daughter to open her brown eyes and begin looking around with curiosity. She planted a soft kiss on the girl's forehead, which seemed to assure the child that she was safe.

"Please come this way, miss," the saleswoman said. She led the young mother to a small bright yellow room with lots of pictures on the wall. The saleswoman placed a large folder on the table. "You may begin looking at these. I'll be back in a few minutes to take your selections."

When the young mother saw the first picture in the stack, a huge smile stretched across her face. She nodded, admitting to herself that she had been right—her baby girl was indeed the most beautiful baby in the whole world. It was a tough decision selecting only one picture from the many beautiful poses, but one seemed to capture the essence of her little angel a little more than the others did.

The saleswoman returned. "Have you made your selections?"

"I'll take this one."

"Just one? Out of all these beautiful pictures? The cost decreases per picture the more you buy," she said as she looked through the selections.

"Surely you want some for family and friends."

"Just this one," the proud mother said as she stared at the picture for a moment. "Yes, this is the one."

"Oh, I see," the saleswoman said as she began to place the others back in the folder. "Do you have the shoes?"

"Yes, I do." She reached into the diaper bag and pulled out the little brown paper bag she had been guarding with her heart. She removed a tiny pair of shoes as if she were handling a precious gift. "I tried to clean them up," she said as she handed them to the woman, "but they're still a little scuffed."

"Oh, don't worry about that. When we apply the bronze, you'll hardly notice it. A few scuff marks will add a bit of character to the whole thing. Shoes are made to be worn."

"It's hard to believe she wore them out so quickly." The young mother stared at the shoes, knowing it was the last time she would see them in their natural state. "She started walking early, at seven months. Even the doctor admitted that's early."

"Well, think of it this way," the saleswoman said. "She's got places to go, and she's not wasting any time."

Both women laughed.

"Adding the bronze will take about a week or so, and we can mail them to you so you don't have to come pick them up."

"That would be great. It's quite a long bus ride to get here, and the service is slow on Saturdays."

The young mother watched the saleswoman finish the paperwork and then place the tiny shoes in a plastic bag.

"With your deposit, your balance is nine dollars. That includes the picture, the bronzing of the shoes, the frame, and of course the shipping," the saleswoman said.

The young mother shifted her baby from one arm to the other so she could reach into her purse. She pulled out a tiny coin holder that held two five-dollar bills folded and stuffed in with the two quarters she would need for the bus ride home. She proudly handed the two wrinkled bills to the saleswoman. As she waited for her change, she began preparing her daughter for the long trip home.

"Here's your change and receipt." The saleswoman took another look at the little girl, who had watched quietly during the whole transaction. "She is such a good baby. Usually the ones we see are fussy and cranky from the long wait." She touched the little girl's hand. "You are such a little blessing. You are a special baby."

"Yes, she is," the young mother said with great pride.

And then, in a moment, the thoughts of the past faded, and the young mother was a middle-aged woman again. Working two jobs for many years had been unkind to her body, but she had no regrets. She stood in the living room of her modest home, staring at the picture of her grown daughter draped in her cap and gown. Despite all she had gone through, to arrive at this moment was more than worthwhile. As she removed the old baby picture from the frame, she replaced it with the photograph of the adult version of her only daughter. She spoke to her as though she were present: "My daughter, the first in our family to receive a doctorate degree. My, oh my, how proud your grandmother would have been had she lived to see the woman you've become. What she dreamed for me has been fulfilled in you."

It had been twenty-nine years since she'd purchased the picture frame, yet the bronzed shoes looked new. Over the years, she had polished them as if idolizing her daughter's first steps, while at the same time adding strength to her current steps. She continued to talk to the young woman in the photo. "All these years, I hoped, I prayed, and God gave us both a strength we didn't know we had."

In that moment, she remembered interrupting her daughter's playtime when she was just eight years old: "What do you want to be when you grow up?" she had asked.

"I'm not sure. I haven't decided yet," the little girl said.

"Well, do you have any ideas?" the mother persisted.

"I can be anything I want to be," the little girl replied, and without another thought to the conversation, she returned to her playtime.

The mother stared at the picture for a long time, admiring the girl she had raised mostly on her own. She recalled the words of the saleswoman from so long ago: "She's got places to go, and she's not wasting any time." Just before she returned the frame to the mantel over the fireplace, she kissed her daughter's photograph, and then she kissed the shiny, bronzed shoes.

Sole Thoughts

A man's heart plans his way, but the LORD directs his steps. Proverbs 16:9

The successes we accomplish in life are set in motion by the mental and spiritual strength we harness to take the first step toward achieving them. The task of intentionally putting one foot in front of the other activates an inner power we don't know we have until it's used, a power our Creator built into our spiritual fabric. We decide what we want to achieve, for "a man's heart plans his way." One step at a time, the invisible hand of God guides us along the path, and the spirit of God not only divinely supports us but directs our steps as well. With each one, we grow into being what we must be in order to realize what we're working so diligently to achieve.

One example where we can see the unveiling of inner strength is in watching a child learn to walk. The child is willing to fall as many times as necessary just to take that first solid step. A baby's first pair of shoes marks the beginning of new possibilities for his or her life's journey. The first steps signal a major accomplishment, a child's first real success, perhaps a miraculous moment for the child. The small steps taken in those early months of life become building blocks of persistence and determination toward adulthood.

Children live in the bliss of pure possibility. This is one reason why it's said that they have great imagination. In those first hours, days, weeks, months, perhaps years, children instinctively feel destined for great things and a high-quality life. If we listen to the response of a child to the question "What do you want to be when you grow up?" we'll hear unbridled possibilities and untapped potential. As the years unfold, children are exposed to a conditioning process that robs them of the sweet innocence that drives the vivid, creative mind toward true potential. They find themselves forced to conform to the predominant thoughts, words, and actions of those around them. While some may be inspiring and positive, others may be negative and critical. The more children's dreams are discounted as pure fantasy, the further away they find themselves from being able to declare, "I can be anything I want to be." Their hopes are in danger of being squashed under the shoes of those who are not conscious of the importance of their steps, words, thoughts, and actions.

One of the greatest lessons that any adult can be mindful of is that we too were once children. Our own childhoods held important keys and insights into how we live our adult lives. We learned a lot about survival and growth in our formative years. Whether the path was smooth and easy or difficult and tough, we made it through. It was as children that we had our first glimpses of the hopes and dreams that propelled us forward in life. It was as children that we experienced disappointments that helped us discover our inner strengths. We face adult issues knowing we all survived childhood.

While some of our hopes and dreams fell by the wayside, others may still be dormant in the recesses of our minds. We may have abandoned some of our dreams out of ignorance of our own ability to persevere, or we may have traded them for something requiring a little less effort and strength. And yes, some of our dreams we actually achieved. Through it all, perhaps no one bronzed our baby shoes, but our first steps were the foundation that helped get us to where we are today.

In our story, a young mother saw her daughter's first steps as setting the tone of forward movement toward a destination that may have looked impossible many times along the way. As a teenage mother, she demonstrated the systematic principle of one step at a time. Day after day, year after year, she had the determination to work two jobs and harness the inner strength required to demonstrate what she had been praying for and working diligently to accomplish. She used the power of persistent movement to invest in the potential of her daughter, and the reward was one of grand success. In the story, we see a young mother set an example of hope and perseverance from which her child was able to capture and discover her own God-given gift of internal strength.

If there is a goal you want to achieve, take a solid step toward it, even if it's a baby step. Then take another. Know that with each move, you are building the idea of success in your mind. One step will lead to another, and another, and on and on. Your job is to keep moving. Before long, you'll realize that you're sprinting toward your goal and celebrating the inner strength it took to achieve it.

Extraordinary Step to Empower Your Sole's Journey

Harness your inner strength to take the first step toward some goal you want to achieve. Keep moving forward knowing that each step is being divinely directed.

If the Shoe Fits ...

• Describe an experience where you used your personal inner strength to achieve a major goal.

• If your first pair of shoes had been bronzed, what value would that have for you today?

• Can you recall a goal that you achieved by using the "baby steps" method?

• Describe how you access the inner mental and spiritual strength that allows you to persevere through life's opportunities and challenges.

• What would be an Extraordinary Step toward drawing forth increased inner strength at this time in your life?

Chapter Two

THE JUDGE WAS TALKING. His lips were moving, but the young woman sitting at the defendant's table only pretended to be listening. Her thoughts were on the past, and the only thing she was hearing was the self-interrogation going on in her head: What went wrong? What did I do that drove him away? Why is this happening to me? The inner voice seemed to get louder and louder with each question. So this is it? Did he ever really love me? How did we end up in divorce court? This whole thing makes no sense. Sure, we had a few problems; all couples have them. But divorce? Divorce?

The sound of the judge's gavel brought Nancy's attention back to the moment, back to what felt like a bad dream. "Divorce granted," he said.

Her attorney turned and said, "Well, that's it, Nancy. You're a free woman."

Nancy had no words to speak, but her thoughts started up again: But I don't want to be free. I want to be married. I want to go home with the man I thought was my soul mate. I want to stop at our favorite restaurant on the way home and have dinner with him, even if we eat in silence the way we have for the last two years.

Nancy looked over at the plaintiff's table. John was already out of the courtroom. He's going to be with her. Couldn't he just take a moment to say good-bye? Our marriage just ended, and he all but ran out of the courtroom.

"Good luck," her attorney said as she extended her hand.

Nancy reached to shake the hand in front of her in what felt like slow motion. She knew it would be appropriate to speak, but the words would not come out. The voice in her head continued: Good luck? What does that mean? My life just fell apart. What is this woman talking about? The only luck I want is to wake up and find that this whole thing has been a bad dream. John never had an affair, and I never caught him in lie after lie until he couldn't lie anymore.

The attorney started talking again. "Nancy, if you don't mind a word of advice from someone who survived divorce, find a hobby quickly and start dating as soon as possible. Get back out there. The longer you wait, the harder it will be. I met my husband three weeks after I divorced my first husband, and now I'm happily remarried. There are some nice guys out there. You just have to look ... and stay open." She turned to walk away and then stopped. "Oh, you'll get my final bill in a few days. I'd appreciate your attention to it as soon as you receive it. Business, you know." She walked away to meet her next client, a man who was waiting near the door. She shook his hand and led him into the hallway.

When Nancy walked into her house that evening, she sat on the sofa and the tears started to flow. Hours later, it was dark outside and dark in the house, and Nancy hadn't moved from her spot. The phone rang to interrupt her private pity party. She did not recognize the caller's phone number but decided to answer anyway. She cleared her throat in the hope that whoever was calling would not hear the sadness in her voice or suspect that she had been crying and sitting in the dark for hours.

"Hello."

(Continues...)

Excerpted from The Metaphysics of Shoesby Charline E. Manuel Copyright © 2012 by Charline E. Manuel. Excerpted by permission of Balboa Press. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
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