I’m reading “Cutting for Stone” which I’m relishing, almost rolling in. There was a story told in the last chapter about a man carrying these awful shoes his whole life, shoes that he hated, but ones that every time he tried to get rid of them, he made it worse, like when he threw them out the window and they hit a pregnant woman and he went to jail.
He was cursed by them his whole life. An older, wiser man suggested he should have built a room for them, a shrine, to protect them and accept them, instead of living in fear of them.
Living in fear of ‘shoes’ means a life lived in fear, not love, certainly not a happy life. I’m thinking about what my shoes are… seems I have a couple pair. I can’t get rid of them, they are part of me — and Goodwill won’t take them. So I’m thinking,… how do I embrace them?