“When you realize how perfect everything is you will tilt your head back and laugh at the sky”.
~The Buddha

This morning I began a writing class at the seminary from which I graduated. The class I am taking is nestled among others on the theme of spirituality and the arts. My sense is that it is going to be a lovely week of not only writing but also having the opportunity to hear the fine words of many of the writers I already love and few that are new to me. It is a gift to be able to spend these early summer mornings in this way.

Halfway through one of the morning’s writing exercises, my eyes wandered to the floor in front of me. I noticed that one of the people I had met earlier was wearing two different shoes. They were both the rubbery, comfy clogs known as ‘Crocs’. One was red and one was orange. My observation had already been that she was a friendly, free spirit and as I saw her shoes, the deal was sealed. I liked her a lot!

The Croc-wearer made me think of a North Carolina friend who always wears two different socks. Why, you ask? So every time he looks down at his feet he is reminded not to take himself too seriously. I smile just thinking of him and this fashion statement turned personality check. Perhaps there is a similar reason for the woman with different shoes.

All this varied foot wear sent me on a time machine to a time when my Aunt Nell showed up at church one Sunday in her go-to-meetin’ best. Worship was held and adults and children alike attended Sunday school. Toward noon we all stood outside on the lawn and the church steps talking in that slow, meandering ways adults love and children hate. The children were hungry and tired of being held captive by our Sunday clothes. Sidling up to my Mother who stood in the circle of women talking, I heard my mom say, “Well, Nell. You have on two different shoes!” We all looked down and sure enough, there she stood with two different, black high heeled shoes. I remember being dumb founded by this. How was it possible to wear two shoes that weren’t mates, especially ones with heels? Didn’t she feel unbalanced all morning?

This is one of my clearer childhood memories. But as I pull it out from the deep recesses of my brain, what strikes me is that what I remember is the laughter. I remember being surrounded by the high pitched laughter of my mother and grandmother and the women of the church. And I remember Aunt Nell laughing at herself till she doubled over. These women who most often I had observed cooking, cleaning, teaching, and caring for children, were also capable of laughing like giddy school girls. Standing in the best clothes any of them owned, they laughed and laughed and somehow, through my gender and my close proximity to the shoe discovery, I became a part of their world. Thinking back now, I imagine them later in the day, after the Sunday dinner had been consumed and the dishes were done, sitting around telling the story of Aunt Nell’s mismatched shoes. Perhaps the whole family got a second helping of laughter out of it.

It doesn’t take much to bring a little joy into any day. Most of us(I am pointing a big finger at myself here.) take ourselves and life far too seriously. Maybe each of us could do with a little creative footwear. And a good laugh.