As many of you know, I used to have a blog that, for a variety of reasons, was shut down rather precipitously a while back. I’ve been alerted to the existence of an archive (Thanks, Cafeteria Mormon, I owe you!). So I thought I’d repost the old posts, so they don’t get lost again. Here’s the first one:
Bowling for truth
Took the kids bowling last night. I did well, though it’s not quite fair when you have those little bumpers in the gutter (but my kids are young, so it’s OK).
If I bowled more often, I’d probably buy my own shoes. Putting the store-owned ones on always brings out the germophobe in me. I always think I’m going to get some communicable disease, absorbing the residual bacteria from the hundreds of drug addicts and pedophiles who have inhabited the shoes before me. Once I have the shoes on, I can almost feel the infection invading the soles of my feet.
But you can’t bowl in street shoes. I know this because I’ve tried. My tennis shoes are way too grippy, and it’s really easy to stumble and fall (I know this also because I have stumbled and fallen). So, you either get diseased shoes, or you look foolish trying to bowl in street shoes. Grudgingly, I put on the shoes and hope I don’t end up in a nursing home somewhere, consumed by flesh-eating bacteria. I still haven’t gotten a disease from bowling shoes, but that’s probably because I wash my feet well when I get home.
Maybe life is like that. We go along in our comfortable shoes, thinking we know what we’re doing, and then suddenly, we are in a situation where the comfortable doesn’t work. We have to get outside of ourselves and sometimes even do something scary and painful to do things properly. Many times in my life I’ve chosen the safe route, left on the comfortable shoes, and fallen on my face. Nope, to really grow and learn, we have to step into those moldy stiff shoes, maybe partaking of some residual wisdom from those who have gone before, and do what has to be done.
That’s what I’m trying to do these days. It’s not comfortable being where I am, but it’s necessary. To quote U2, “You’re taking steps that make you feel dizzy, but you learn to like the way it feels.”