You know you’re a fashion misfit when you have no problems wearing any outfit, no matter how fancy, with sneakers.
Here’s a story from my closet about that time my rebel sneaker nearly drove me mad.
I had a duck in my sneaker that was driving me crazy. Every time I took a step with my right foot, it made this quacking sound. Quack! Quack! Quack!
I tried turning my foot, pointing my toe, stepping with my heel, stomping, all to no effect. Except maybe confirming to all my neighbors that yes, indeed, I am certifiably insane as I hobbled and lurched my way down the street every day.
Nothing worked. I kept quacking on. So I started avoiding quiet streets where there was little other noise to mask my quacking. Why did this happen, you ask? Well, the simple answer is that after I washed my sneakers, the right shoe was never quite the same. The metaphysical answer is that this experience was some kinda lesson for me to learn.
I had to stop caring so much about looking like an idiot.
Because I was obsessing, ya see. I was letting the quacking drive me crazy. I was not gonna let this rebel sneaker get the best of me. But the more I resisted, the louder the quacks became.
You could say that I was in denial of reality. The quacking was not acceptable to me. But at some point, I had to surrender. I had to get over myself. Half my neighborhood walks around blasting brain-shrinking tunes, and here I was worried about my shoe quacking. I mean, it’s not like what others think about my quacking is even that important to me. F*** it.
And of course, that’s when it happened.
When I gave up resisting and forgot about it altogether the quacking stopped.
I can’t even tell you exactly when it stopped because I'd stopped paying attention. One day I found myself walking down the street completely quack-less.
Oh, the insanity of obsessing over little unimportant things. And I know I’m not alone here. So, I ask you, why do we do it?
To quack or not to quack.
I don’t have the answer. But maybe it has to do with wanting to control things. It makes us feel like the world isn’t such a scary place. I don’t know, maybe we can’t help it. It’s the way our minds work. Thinking turns into obsessing when you latch on to your thoughts like a dog with a bone.
I am now quack-less and fully aware of my non-quacking. It’s a relief to not sound like I’ve got a duck in my sneaker. Or let’s be brutally honest here - like I’m releasing little quack-like sounding farts with every step.
Yeah, I’m happy the quack is gone. I don’t need that kind of attention. Believe you me. But wouldn’t ya know it, now that he's gone, I miss the little quack. I know this may sound wacky but I kinda wish I could summon my sneaker to quack one more time. So I could give my little quack a heartfelt goodbye.
Bye-bye, my little quack! Thanks for showing up in my life to remind me about what’s important. Come back whenever you want. Smile.
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