Walk In These Shoes

30 Mar

I go to the Salvation Army to get costume pieces for a film Im going to be in. I'm Just grateful to get the call. A call I needed. Looking. My focus wanders.  So many clothes, so many people. Repurposed. People repurposed? Clothes on a return journey to the racks, the display of a need. Maybe some of these threads were actually part of a dream? Left behind, some forgotten. 

I'm reminded of a suit I wore for a scene two years ago. Carelessly sent off to a donation center because I had forgotten it. Left it behind after Death of A Salesman.

Sweats, T's, Jos. A Banks, shirts that cost one hundred dollars, now ten... And not really worn. Worn, but not used or used but not appreciated. Not appreciated, like most of the people that donated here.  It's good enough, it will do. You'll do for the job, a warm body, someone with a pulse that can be forgotten. Like these clothes.

I didn't forget my suit because it was affordable to do so. Contrarily, it was because I was excited to commune with my fellow artists over drinks at the local pub, and I had been distracted by the honor of answering a question from a new student. The pleasure was all mine. I treasured the feeling of being needed and useful.

These clothes will be a treasure, someone will treasure them because of their need. The laborer whose value is only as great as the job-master's need and valued even less. But the laborer is grateful and this lesson will be passed on... Be grateful for what you have, even if you want better.

I refocus my thinking. My thoughts retreat from wandering as I look down at shoes on the bottom of a rack.  I don't really need shoes. I see a pair of shoes that look familiar. They're among several pair of shoes from different walks of life.

I stare at them. I begin to feel the way you do when you realize the truth about a situation that you couldn't grasp or an answer you've been waiting for.  That revelation that washes over you... These are my shoes! I pick them up. I try them on. I last saw them two years ago.

I hold them again and stare hard at them. A flashback ensues of the many scenes I did wearing these shoes. And the last Scene I did, Death Of A Salesman. As I study them, they're transformed into a symbol of what they are connected to. This moves me in my spirit, in the deepest place. A deeper dream ... lost.

Because I was asked to be in a film, I found my shoes in perfect condition. Not merely an item of clothing, but the symbol of a direction to take; to keep struggling through until all the stories I have to tell, are told. From the recess of my deepest dreams, my spirit says to my soul... Walk in these shoes.

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