New Shoes

This summer, when I slipped into my favorite pair of sandals, they fit like a glove, all broken in, the leather soft and supple from last summer's constant wearing. But the soles were cracked, and had started falling apart. I didn't want to give them up because they fit so well. So I've kept wearing them.

Sometimes, when I was out at the mall, I would stop in a shoe store and look at other sandals, even trying some on. I didn't like how the new shoes fit, however. They were too stiff, too hard. I would kick them off and put my old sandals on, going merrily on my way.

Similarly, my life has been like an old pair of sandals, much too comfortable and uninspiring, even when there is so much I want to do. I turned 38 this year, and wondered where my thirties have gone. How am I improved since I was 28? I swore I wasn't going to waste my thirties like I wasted my twenties, but here I am, still coasting, still drifting downstream. We all die eventually. Is this really how I want to remember my life?

Sure I have a great kid, a great husband, a great life with food on the table and a roof over my head, jobs, and two dogs, but I feel as if I have stopped growing as a person.

I am a lurker at metafilter, and this week on askmetafilter, libraryhead posted this question. It seemed to sum up all I have been feeling.