I was at a sporting goods store and found what looked like great running shoes hidden in the far back of the store against a wall, with a price tag of $24 on them.
I felt as if I had just found a Rembrandt at a garage sale.
“$24 for a whole pair of shoes? Pfft. I just won the lottery.”
I slipped them on and stood on the carpeted floor (important detail, carpeted floor).
They felt “ok,” so I grabbed them and confidently headed to the register with my score, feeling like I was getting away with something, as if the store had made some sort of error and I was about to benefit.
I felt smug about what a clever person I was.
“$24 for new running shoes? Score.”
When I got home, I put them on to go for a walk.
That’s when I noticed how heavy they were. Each shoe felt like two-plus pounds, as if they had weights hidden in the soles.
I thought, That’s ok, I need more exercise. This is like wearing ankle weights.
Then I stood up and stepped off the carpet.
I immediately noticed the soles were so hard they gripped absolutely nothing, other than carpet.
I told Sue, “It feels like wearing InTac boots on an icy day.”
InTac is a dynamic entry team attached to the Columbus Police Narcotics Division. We sometimes wore cleats during snowy days so we could run on ice during raids. They worked great, until one stepped into a kitchen or bathroom of a crack house that happened to have tile floors. At that point, the cleats turned you into a figure skater.
“These shoes feel like that,” I said, “like I’m wearing InTac boots with cleats on them, in a crack house kitchen.”
Even outside, while walking, the shoes sounded like a horror movie sound effect, the moment when the killer walks up to the closet someone’s hiding in.
As if Frankenstein’s monster were approaching.
Clonk. Clonk. Clonk.
This morning I was putting them on again and mentioned to my wife, “Even the shoelaces are weird. The knot ties on the top of the back of my foot, halfway up, like it’s only half on. I need a fork to untie them.”
Sue said, “Why are you wearing them?”
I said, “Because I want to win. I paid $24 for these, and I want to get $24 worth of value out of them.”
She said, “You want to be right, valid, and justified? That’s why you’re still wearing the shoes?”
I said, “Exactly. Because I’m no fool… dang. That’s why I’m wearing them, theoretically because I’m not a fool.”
Pause.
“Ok. Hearing that out loud, I’ll drop these off at Goodwill.”
New shoes, coming soon to a Goodwill near you.
All humans want to be right, valid, and justified.
One of the hardest things for a human to do is admit when they’re wrong.
“Do you want to be right, or do you want to be happy? You can only choose one.”
Spoiler, those who choose happiness rarely live with regret.
That which I cling to always brings suffering.
Relief comes from letting go.
Larmonster.com 