On a normal day, I have
gotten into the truly odd habit of wearing a pair of tough little work boots
that I brought back from Christmas break with me. These suede ruffians that I attach
to my feet, while being resistant to the rain, ice, or snow that we here in
Juneau to intermittently experience, have an uncommon and ignominious curse
bestowed on them by the footwear gods: the curse of boot laces.
Every morning, in order to function correctly during the
day, I have set before me a grim and time-consuming task: lacing up my boots
good and tight. It is my burden to make sure that each lace that threads
through the 7 pairs of lace-holes on each boot is tightened to a sufficient strength.
This task is made all the more complex due to the fact that my laces stretch
and drag in and out of the holes in a most un-smooth and thoroughly
dissatisfying way. This means that I must tug voraciously at the laces for each
hole to get them satisfactorily snug. It is only after this that I can tie the
knot well, which is another set of complains completely. Let us just say that
my knot-tying skills have diminished since I learned back in Kindergarten.
As a consequence of this drudgery in the morning, it
falls to me every evening the task of then undoing all of my morning’s work in
order to take the boots off. This morning tightening logically makes it
impossible for my foot to even contemplate freedom from the boot without substantially
loosening the laces. This I particularly despise, as my former habit of tying
my shoes only once, and then slipping them on and off had become muscle memory,
now only to be frustrated by a constrictor of a boot. This tightening up and
loosening out of my boot laces would drive me up the wall and force me to give
up my boots forever if it were not for one virtue that the process entails.
In this morning and evening ritual of precise tugging, I
have learned that boot laces require intentionality.
I have to be completely sure that I am going out the door before I actually do it. These boot laces make me think about what
it is that I am doing, and answer to why I am doing it. As I step out of my
dorm room, I have to know where I am going and why I am going there. If I did
not know these things, I would never have laced up my boots. Likewise, I must
also know when I am home to stay, and unlacing my boots solidifies this. If I
did not go through the process of taking off my boots at the end of the day,
would I feel at home at all? No, I would not, and I would not value being at
home, either. The patience required by such antiquated means of foot-security
makes me have to know and value where
I am and where I am going.
My friends, we live in a generation cursed by the craving
for accessibility. We don’t just want to go
somewhere, we want to be somewhere,
and be there quick. I mean, how many of us would jump at the chance to have a
portal gun, or a flying cap, or even just a plain old car? To have things like
this would mean that we could go anywhere, anytime, in just minutes. But would
we ever appreciate it being there?
I’m not saying we should all wear suede work boots (well…maybe
I am), I’m just saying that a little inconvenience makes for a lot of
appreciation. I’m just saying that when you tie your shoes, when you make the
walk from housing down to campus, when you make homemade food (hey, I'm a college student, it's a longed-for commodity), when you lock
and unlock your door and the beginning and end of the day, you have a greater ability to appreciate what you are
doing with your life.
Happy lacing.
