Saturday, May 1: ironic insight
“In comfortable shoes you forget that you have feet.”
I guess that’s ironic, and I guess it is an insight. But I don’t get it. Why would I want to forget I have feet? What if I want to go somewhere? If I take the shoes off, will I be shocked and horrified by the ugly and over-sized bony protrusions on the end of my legs? Perhaps in this quotable moment, I am supposed to remember that in a state of extraordinary comfort, we bliss out and forget the aches and pains of bodies altogether and escape into a fantasy of limitlessness and easy-breezy Cover Girl beauty, but that was just too weird (and not pithy enough) to write?
It’s May Day on which, come to think of it, we celebrate all kinds of ironies—war machines that guard peace and strikes to ensure work. It’s also Beltane—a festival of commitment and intimacy at a time when no one can touch. But we are getting there!
Life is filled with little moments designed to do one thing but really do just the opposite—like the escalator at the gym that saves you from exerting energy on your way to working out.
My ironic insight today? I’m good at freeing up time, but I am not very good at using it. I seem to have a lot of time, and I invest a lot of time into having a lot of time, but I rarely know what to do with all that time. I feel I should do something with it—there is always something to do. This morning, everyone in my family asked me what the plan was for the day. I don’t really know—there are some routines—groceries, cleaning, walking the dog—but other than that, what does one do on a Saturday full of time and sunshine. Nothing. And, for once, I think not using what you’ve got is okay.
