Shoes
There are a few old hardware stores left around, I'm sure. But not around here. Something in me wishes there still were. You know the kind: Scuffed, creaky wooden floors, rows of dusty motor belts hanging from the ceiling in no discernible order, and the faint smell of musty ceiling tile, mixing with the unmistakeable springtime scent of bags of fertilizer, on pallets near the back. A big metal ceiling fan, rocking rhythmically on a crooked base, stirring up the humid air just enough to make the flies uneasy.
There used to be one, not far from where I'm sitting, when I was a kid. My grandma worked there. I can remember her standing at the register, calling every customer by name, a twinkle in her eye as she countered the witty greetings of ornery locals with clever responses of her own. Everyone knew and loved her. I thought she walked on water back then. In my memories of her, I still do.
That store is long gone now. Torn down. In it's place stands a new bank. Big, modern-looking windows, framing an important-looking entrance. Beautiful brick facade, and an electronic sign, the latter in a perpetual state of indecision between showing the current time, and insisting, by way of five exclamation points, that I have a nice day.
That sign stands right on the corner, in the same spot where faded GMC pickups and the occasional Allis Chalmers tractor - driven straight from the farm by busy men who needed a hitch pin or a bucket of oil more urgently than they needed to switch vehicles - once parked side-by-side.
Right now, I'm having a difficult time remembering how we're better off without those places. Oh, I'm a realist. The roof leaked on that old store, even way back then. And the brick walls were crumbling in places. It wasn't going to last forever, charming or not. Some of it, for me, is just simple nostalgia, of course. But there's something else, too. And in my opinion, it's what we're nostalgic for in the first place:
Whether we're talking people or places, genuine articles are getting tougher to find.
Despite my bleary-eyed wishes for more old-time general stores and chrome-stooled coffee shops to reappear, it's not old buildings or Norman Rockwell atmosphere I'm truly missing. I can't help but feel society has lost the plot. We are no longer a culture of tradesmen and home-based housewives. I know...women are fully empowered, men are mobile multi-taskers...that's not what I'm getting at.
This isn't a soapbox post, in which I lament the passing of the 1950's, so before you're overcome with righteous indignation, stay with me. Whether you believe modernization of the workforce is good or bad, isn't remotely the point. What is important to think about, is that we no longer labor alongside our parents, or apprentice with a mentor when we're young. There's nobody to tell us our strengths, and teach us skills to overcome our weaknesses. The best we can do for our kids today, it seems, is to give them platitudes about hard work, and hope the usual graduation speech about reaching for the stars covers the rest.
But here I am, about to tread the tired, stale waters of suggesting we can all find a life that is satisfying. Why bother? After all, we have to earn a living, right? And today's poor economy often dictates we take whatever job comes along, and be glad to do so. I'm not a clueless idealist; there's some real truth in learning to be content with our circumstances.
Anyone who is selling the idea, though, that life doesn't need us to use our gifts and talents to the benefit of others, won't find a buyer in me. And the heartbreaking irony is that we don't even need to struggle to get there. The world needs you, or you wouldn't be here. Period. So why so much hand-wringing over trying to 'discover ourselves' and to feel needed? It's because we're trying to determine what we think the world needs or wants, and then trying to repackage ourselves to supply it. That's a well-trodden path to endless disappointment. You'll never fill someone else's role as well as they're already filling it. But why would you want to, anyway? Go ahead - bang your head against the wall. Get mad about the hand you were dealt. Let the unending frustration of never quite being the person you think you should be - that you think others expect you to be - seep deeply into your mind, settling into your bones, until it paralyzes you. Knock yourself out.
But it's a waste of time. A relentless treadmill. As long as you're depending on others to tell you how you should live, you'll always measure life by someone else's yardstick. And you'll always come up short. The proverbial square peg will always be square. Even if you paint it.
I think "discovering your purpose" and "finding your talents" is often made to seem far too complicated. You'd think it were some ethereal formula that only the lucky few ever discover. It isn't. It definitely feels that way to many people, but it isn't.
This is a loud, fast world. If you aren't the confrontational type, never particularly held the dream of being the CEO of a Fortune 500 company, and don't have the blueprint for the Next Big Thing, like Steve Wozniak and Al Gore did, when the internet was hatched in Al's garage, it can feel like you're a ship without an ocean. Something's missing, but you don't even remember what it is anymore. So we shove the feeling - that it could ever be any other way - back down into the boneyard. It's probably best left alone anyway, because the only answer we've ever gotten to the question of "Isn't there more?", is....YES. More work that you're tired of doing. More stress. More bills to pay. More people that need a piece of your time. It's easier to just get your head out of the clouds, accept reality, and forget about it.
Still, in the quieter moments, that old restlessness tugs at your sleeve. Or maybe you're given to introspection, and it hammers at you every single day. Either way, you can't stifle it forever. For me, it shows up when I'm on vacation somewhere, enjoying those rarest of commodities: spare time, and quiet. I start thinking about how short life is. About how much time I've wasted. And if I'm honest, that I sometimes don't have a clue what I'd really like to do with the rest of my life, even if I had the time and resources to chuck it all and do it.
I like to think of myself as the logical sort, and that logic helps me compartmentalize and suppress those thoughts: Of course vacations make us feel like we missed the train, right? We all wish that life were less stressful, that we didn't have to work for a living, and that we could sip margaritas and watch the tide roll in, as often and as long as we liked. But that's not the case. If you are even slightly like me, you aren't from old money, and your lucky number is "0", which also happens to be the exact number of times you've ever won anything, so Powerball is probably out of the question.
Man, though, that nagging empty feeling just flat sucks. We may give up on the idea of ever having a big-time life, but just improving things a little bit would surely help. Maybe we can buckle down and "do better".
If you're going to do that (again), I have some suggestions: First, make the goal really massive. And vague. And unattainable. 'I want to change my life' is a good one. Convince yourself that you have one shot, that it's all or nothing. Make it conditional too. Tell yourself, for instance, that there's really nothing you can do until you quit this job you hate. It's also a good idea to set a date to begin your new life. It's even better - to ensure future disappointment - if that day is January first. New Year's Day is the never-dry fountain of forgotten plans, crushed resolve, and embarrassing disappointment. And as you already know, after the 50th failed resolution, we finally 'come to our senses', and begin to accept that ever doing anything worthwhile just isn't in the cards.
If you've ever listened to any of the self-help gurus of our time, you might think your best hope is to catch a seminar - maybe read a book or two - that will show, in five easy steps, how you can be more like everyone else. How, through positive self-talk and confident conversations with the mirror, you can finally be "that" person. Your personality quirks will be exposed for what they really are: weakness. Be the aggressor - go take what's already yours. Get that brass ring, or gold watch, or whatever other stereotypical icon for success you'd like to fill in. But what if that idea is wrong? What if that whole bill of goods - the one that says if we can just become more like the world's "ideal" person, we'll be noticed, and important, and happy, in that order - is abject, monumental nonsense?
I happen to believe it is.
The truth is much simpler. Someone, somewhere, right now, needs you. You have a phenomenal gift and a talent (or ten) that the world severely needs. They won't know they need it until they see it. You might not even know you have it until you use it. I don't care whether you believe that or not. Nor does it matter one bit whether your self-administered "personal talent inventory" shows anything in the ledger. It's still true. There are a fortunate few who are born knowing what they're good at, and who begin pursuing it seriously at the age of 3.
If you aren't one of those, you're in a select group of millions. The rest of us might never know how much we have to offer, until we start looking for ways to offer what little we think we have. Why weigh yourself down by thinking you need to have a grand scheme, and an unshakeable sense of purpose before you begin? You don't have to have a detailed plan. You don't have to try to forsee the results. That's futility. You only have to bring the slightest little thing to bear on needs around you. Use the the most ridiculously-small skill you have, and other opportunities will begin to appear from thin air. And they'll get bigger. More clear. And in a few years time, you'll wonder how you got where you are. This isn't a sure-fire program for wealth. Or fame. Or success. Maybe you'll be rich someday. I have no idea. Nor does it matter, to me or to you. This IS a sure-fire program to get what it is you're missing, which far surpasses the other trivialties: A reason for being.
I'm not saying, like a cheap T-shirt, to 'Just be yourself'. You need to offer of yourself. Huge difference. One involves personality. The other involves work. I'm also not saying the cure for a thousand ills is right on your lips, just waiting to be said. In fact, I'll just go ahead and say what you already know: It's not going to be easy or quick. And if you're acting out of the desire to attain "success" by the commonly-accepted definition, you'll be disappointed. Change your definition of success.
Listen carefully to what I'm saying, though. The lone act of using your gifts and talents, that are, out of billions of people on the planet, unique to you, to do things of which you didn't even know you were capable, is a reward far surpassing any material thing you can dream up. You already know that. We've all dreamt of being rich at some point in our lives. Or maybe you're already there, and it isn't everything you thought it would be. It isn't really about the money, is it? It's about what we think the money would bring us. Peace. Fulfillment. Joy. Read between the lines of your own desires. See if I'm wrong. It's what we all really want.
Stop making a big deal out of trying to figure out your talents. Some of the most powerful talents need years to even appear. But then, one day, at the right moment and place, they surprise everyone. Not the least of which, often, is the person wielding them.
Just do one thing today that makes you feel worthwhile. Make something. Build something. Paint something. Help someone do those things. Listen to somebody. And then do it again tomorrow. And after a few tomorrows, more people will want you to make or build something. More will really, really want you to listen to them. And then do that too. You simply won't find your "calling" by thinking about it. Thoughtful planning is good. But planning until the plan falls apart isn't. And there's no such thing as a wrong move. All roads, in this case, will get you to the same place. Yep, you'll still have a job, and bills, and meetings. You'll still get discouraged. But always keep in mind, that's part of The Conspiracy to keep your gifts from others, and to keep you mired in your own thoughts. What you've always believed to be true about yourself, probably isn't.
There'll be many who read this with head-shaking cynicism. You're thinking you've already been down this road.
But you haven't.
If you aren't currently spending a significant part of your life doing things you love, and having those things affect others in an amazing way, you simply haven't. Suit yourself. Just don't shoot the messenger.
But for those still reading with an open mind, start walking. When the doors appear, push them open. They'll creak from lack of use, but you'll find they swing with barely a push. On the other side, take your time, as you walk across the worn, wooden floors, breathing in the smell of new rope, and grass seed. As you pause to pull on your old leather boots, feel the weight of the expectations of others lift from your shoulders, and laugh as you realize how genuinely crazy it was to have spent all that time trying to fit yourself
into somebody else's shoes.