a quote from my favorite author

“The most solid advice, though, for a writer is this, I think: Try to learn to breathe deeply, really to taste food when you eat, and when you sleep, really to sleep. Try as much as possible to be wholly alive, with all your might, and when you laugh, laugh like hell, and when you get angry, get good and angry. Try to be alive. You will be dead soon enough.”

-William Saroyan, The Daring Young Man on the Flying Trapeze

Thursday, April 9, 2015


4.8.15 | shoes

My mother-in-law had impeccable taste.  Even in pajamas she looked well-put together.  Shopping was more than just her way of life; it was like an art form for her--her means of self-expression.  I got an up close glimpse of her passion for shopping one day at the outlet mall.

My sister-in-law, her mother, my mother, and I had planned to spend the day shopping together in an attempt to bond early on in my relationship with Mark.  After several attempts at shopping for clothes that resulted in a clear division of style and taste, we decided to try a shoe store.  We each headed in separate directions to browse.

I have freakishly small feet, making it nearly impossible to find stylish shoes that fit.  I usually try to force myself to search for my size before even looking at the shoes to avoid falling in love with shoes that will not work for me.  However, these bright green flats caught my eye despite my focus on numbers.  They were quirky and lovely and I wanted them even though the smallest they came in was a size 6, which was a half-size too big for me.  The pragmatic side of me wondered how many outfits I could even make work with bright-summer-grass-green shoes.  The impulsive side of me wanted to ignore the looseness in the heel and run straight to the counter with the shoes.  

It was my mother-in-law who ended my internal dilemma.  She approached me with a smile on her face.  "You should get those shoes," she urged.  I started to explain that I wasn't sure the fit was quite right.  I began to reason that I didn't have many outfits with which they would work.  Then I noticed this sparkle in her eye as she smiled down at the shoes.  It was the only sign I had ever gotten of her acceptance.  It turned out to be a rare sparkle of approval--a feeling I experienced only a few times since.  

I bought the shoes.  It turned out that with a little non-slip heel insert, they fit perfectly.  I know, however, that the comfort of these shoes does not lie in the fit, but rather in the memory they hold.


  1. Acceptance and approval we seek, but often find it missing. Those shoes hold a memory dear to your heart.

  2. It is good to have a tangible reminder of a golden moment of acceptance. Relationships are tricky like that. Though the longer I live the more I sense that disapproval often speaks more of the other person's heart and not the one that feels the disapproval! Something I try to remember when I am disapproving of someone/something aor feel that judgement against me.