Welcome to the Wannaskan Almanac for Saturday, May 19th!
Here are Mark Hamill's "May the Force Be With You" tweets for this past week. I give him bonus points for the increasing inventiveness.
May The 12th Bring Good Health, Great Wealth & A Strong Sense Of Self To
The Elf On The Shelf
May The 13th Be The Dinner Guests At The Last Supper
May The 14th Be A Common Designation For The 13th Floor In Many Buildings
For Superstitious Reasons
May The 15th Be An Emergency Number In Pakistan
May The 16 Be Serene- But Far From Routine...
Perfectly Balanced Between Clean & Obscene
May The 17
Syllables In A Haiku
Be Just Like This Tweet
May 18th was a two-fer. He started the day with:
May 18... vent your spleen.
#TheyCantAllBeGems
Then came out later with:
May The 18th Begin Year 2 Of An Investigation That Is Either:
A) A Total WITCH HUNT!!!
OR
B) The Most Egregious Political Crimes Ever Perpetrated In Our Nation's History
... "We'll See What Happens"
This weekend I'm at the Minnesota Women of Today Annual Convention at the Arrowwood Resort in Alexandria, Minnesota. I've been a member of the Warroad Women of Today for 11 years and tonight I will be wrapping up my stint as District 2 Director. I enjoy volunteering in general and have absolutely loved being a cheerleader for our Women of Today chapters in Greenbush, Roseau, Warroad and Baudette. My theme this past year was Red Shoes for District 2!
So, why red shoes?
For as long as I can remember - at least in my adult life - I have wanted a pair of red shoes. Perhaps this cry came from my feet; to break away from the utilitarian and unflattering footwear I usually wore. Mostly though, I think I harbored a hope that these Flintstone feet of mine could, too, be pretty one day.
This hankering surfaced especially whenever I traveled in Europe; watching women confidently click-clack over the cobblestones in footwear that screamed of high fashion - or at least of a very good imitation of one. The desire nagged when I saw a pig-tailed toddler triumphantly climbing up the slide in her little ruby reds that sparkled and would make any Wizard of Oz fan swell with a bit of jealousy.
Red shoes in particular seemed to be saying something - a bigger message in the call, "Wear me..."
Then my day came. It was right after Christmas. I was with my mother-in-law in a small shop in the Czech Republic. The shop was jam packed with all kinds of zboži . Tables overflowing with cardboard boxes and white plastic baskets filled with socks, underwear, house shoes, hats, and gloves of all sizes filled the floor space while burgeoning wall displays of winter jackets, tops, dresses, and scarves fenced us in, leaving only narrow paths among the merchandise. It’s what I imagine a hoarder’s home to look like – the only difference being everything was on sale.
The children were particularly cheerful because babička had bought them all kinds of presents: rubber boots, umbrellas, handkerchiefs with their favorite Czech cartoon characters. It was Christmas all over again. I, on the other hand, was feeling glum. having made no purchases. I blamed it on the extra pounds (or kilos) around my middle.
But all of that disappointment melted away when – after navigating to the far back of the cramped, narrow shop - I spotted a pair of red shoes. To me, they were the most perfect pair of red shoes ever in the history of red shoes. I pointed them out to my mother-in-law and we eagerly sought out my size. Admittedly, I held back the thrill just a bit because, really, what if they didn't fit? I’d tried on many a red shoe – usually a strappy high heel or something with a narrow, pointy toe – and had yet to find something that fit both my personality and my foot.
I furtively slipped my horse hoof into the shoe. The angels sang. I felt like Cinderella – the fairy tale magic of a dream come true! That night I emailed a girlfriend, "What was life like before red shoes?"
Indeed.
These babies harnessed an energy I could not have anticipated. My step felt bouncier, my stride was confident. I reveled in people's downward glances and approving nods. Strangers complimented them without fail and I could no longer go out in public without being noticed. The shoes were celebrities.
The first scuff of my beloved red shoes happened when I "dove into the future" during an exercise at a leadership training. I was so sad about damaging my shoes. It would be appropriate to say that I mourned the loss of their newness. With each subsequent scratch or scrape, crinkle or crease, it felt like some of the magic wore off. They were losing their perfection. They were losing their power. But - in their imminent shabbiness, I discovered a metaphor.
These shoes were about doing, not just about being pretty. I was reminded that embracing the future and showing up in the world meant walking in the shoes. There was work to be done and by doing that work the shoes would get gouged, nicked, and dinged. It was inevitable. Unavoidable. The stitching would come undone, the soles would wear out – and, as it turned out, the cheap red vinyl covering would peel and flake off - but in the end, the whole of me would be just fine.
The shoes, therefore, became a symbol of my values of empowerment, positivity, and passion. When I wear red shoes, I feel empowered and energized. Red is a power color. While some might be tempted to get into a debate about power structure, power plays, and positions of power, I say, why not reserve a little red for yourself? And what better place to put a little power and energy than on your feet?
I used to think that I had to go out into the world to make change or to do something positive and worthwhile for others. Living in Warroad has taught me there’s no better place to wear the red shoes than right where I am - at home.
So in the end it's not about the shoes. It's about the person wearing the shoes. There will always be more shoes, but forever in the history of the world, there will be only one you.
May your Saturday be filled with that red shoe energy!
Kim
Here are Mark Hamill's "May the Force Be With You" tweets for this past week. I give him bonus points for the increasing inventiveness.
May The 12th Bring Good Health, Great Wealth & A Strong Sense Of Self To
The Elf On The Shelf
May The 13th Be The Dinner Guests At The Last Supper
May The 14th Be A Common Designation For The 13th Floor In Many Buildings
For Superstitious Reasons
May The 15th Be An Emergency Number In Pakistan
May The 16 Be Serene- But Far From Routine...
Perfectly Balanced Between Clean & Obscene
May The 17
Syllables In A Haiku
Be Just Like This Tweet
May 18th was a two-fer. He started the day with:
May 18... vent your spleen.
#TheyCantAllBeGems
Then came out later with:
May The 18th Begin Year 2 Of An Investigation That Is Either:
A) A Total WITCH HUNT!!!
OR
B) The Most Egregious Political Crimes Ever Perpetrated In Our Nation's History
... "We'll See What Happens"
This weekend I'm at the Minnesota Women of Today Annual Convention at the Arrowwood Resort in Alexandria, Minnesota. I've been a member of the Warroad Women of Today for 11 years and tonight I will be wrapping up my stint as District 2 Director. I enjoy volunteering in general and have absolutely loved being a cheerleader for our Women of Today chapters in Greenbush, Roseau, Warroad and Baudette. My theme this past year was Red Shoes for District 2!
So, why red shoes?
For as long as I can remember - at least in my adult life - I have wanted a pair of red shoes. Perhaps this cry came from my feet; to break away from the utilitarian and unflattering footwear I usually wore. Mostly though, I think I harbored a hope that these Flintstone feet of mine could, too, be pretty one day.
Red shoes in particular seemed to be saying something - a bigger message in the call, "Wear me..."
Then my day came. It was right after Christmas. I was with my mother-in-law in a small shop in the Czech Republic. The shop was jam packed with all kinds of zboži . Tables overflowing with cardboard boxes and white plastic baskets filled with socks, underwear, house shoes, hats, and gloves of all sizes filled the floor space while burgeoning wall displays of winter jackets, tops, dresses, and scarves fenced us in, leaving only narrow paths among the merchandise. It’s what I imagine a hoarder’s home to look like – the only difference being everything was on sale.
The children were particularly cheerful because babička had bought them all kinds of presents: rubber boots, umbrellas, handkerchiefs with their favorite Czech cartoon characters. It was Christmas all over again. I, on the other hand, was feeling glum. having made no purchases. I blamed it on the extra pounds (or kilos) around my middle.
But all of that disappointment melted away when – after navigating to the far back of the cramped, narrow shop - I spotted a pair of red shoes. To me, they were the most perfect pair of red shoes ever in the history of red shoes. I pointed them out to my mother-in-law and we eagerly sought out my size. Admittedly, I held back the thrill just a bit because, really, what if they didn't fit? I’d tried on many a red shoe – usually a strappy high heel or something with a narrow, pointy toe – and had yet to find something that fit both my personality and my foot.
I furtively slipped my horse hoof into the shoe. The angels sang. I felt like Cinderella – the fairy tale magic of a dream come true! That night I emailed a girlfriend, "What was life like before red shoes?"
Indeed.
These babies harnessed an energy I could not have anticipated. My step felt bouncier, my stride was confident. I reveled in people's downward glances and approving nods. Strangers complimented them without fail and I could no longer go out in public without being noticed. The shoes were celebrities.
 |
| The first scuff |
These shoes were about doing, not just about being pretty. I was reminded that embracing the future and showing up in the world meant walking in the shoes. There was work to be done and by doing that work the shoes would get gouged, nicked, and dinged. It was inevitable. Unavoidable. The stitching would come undone, the soles would wear out – and, as it turned out, the cheap red vinyl covering would peel and flake off - but in the end, the whole of me would be just fine.
The shoes, therefore, became a symbol of my values of empowerment, positivity, and passion. When I wear red shoes, I feel empowered and energized. Red is a power color. While some might be tempted to get into a debate about power structure, power plays, and positions of power, I say, why not reserve a little red for yourself? And what better place to put a little power and energy than on your feet?
I used to think that I had to go out into the world to make change or to do something positive and worthwhile for others. Living in Warroad has taught me there’s no better place to wear the red shoes than right where I am - at home.
So in the end it's not about the shoes. It's about the person wearing the shoes. There will always be more shoes, but forever in the history of the world, there will be only one you.
May your Saturday be filled with that red shoe energy!
Kim
Thanks for the encouragement. Maybe I'll buy those red cowboy boots I've always wanted.
ReplyDeleteI promise, you will be a changed man! :)
DeleteI already have red cowboy boots. I bought them in the 80's when I was in college. Eddie Rabbit was playing in Moorhead one night I was out dancing. I got his signature in one of my boots. If I had been out the night before Reba McEntire was playing at the same bar. I could of had here signature too. So Chairman Joe i highly recommend you go out and get those red cowboy boots!
Delete