There's a Rock in my Boot!

I believe "delightful idiot" is the term I used to describe myself a few weeks ago. It may surprise you, since these words of wisdom possess such truth and display such brilliance, but most of my life is characterized by really dumb thoughts. Sometimes, after I recognize the incredible stupidity of a thought I glance around just to be sure that no one else heard me think that thought. And I'm always glad I'm the only one who knows about those thoughts... ;)

Which is why the thought that entered my mind when I swung off my horse and landed on a road was really no surprise. I'd been riding for about 8 miles, which was approximately 80 minutes. The only other time I'd dismounted my horse had been about 1 mile into the ride when the path had led underneath a road and I'd felt it was safer to walk my horse through on my own two feet. You might not know this, but when you've been on the back of a horse that long you reach a point when you have to consciously wiggle your toes because you can't feel them so well anymore. I think it's a combination of lost circulation and the fact that you haven't used your toes in so long they've kind of forgotten they know how to move. Whatever the case, it's almost always pleasant to get off your horse and walk a little while. That's part of the reason I'd gotten of my horse at the 8 mile mark. The other reason is that I'd come to the top of a hill and the path led downward on a nice bed of asphalt. Another thing you might not know is that horses slip on asphalt paths, and I didn't want to be on top of my horse if he should decide to slide down the hill. 

So I swung off, landed, and took a step down the hill. And immediately realized I had a rock in my shoe. Somehow my toes hadn't registered the presence of the rock, probably because they were a little numb, but the moment I took a step I knew it was going to be an uncomfortable walk down the hill. And I began to wish that I could have discovered the rock without walking on it. That's when I realized how incredibly ridiculous I was. It was as if a lightbulb went on in my mind and I mentally raced through all the other times I could remember having something in my shoe. Not once had I discovered the rock in my boot without actually walking on the rock. I guess it's something about the jostling movement of the shoe on the ground and your toes in the shoe. 

But I was still rather frustrated with that rock in my boot. It was going to be a long walk down the hill since it really didn't seem like a great idea to take off my boot and dump out the rock while standing in the middle of a road. On asphalt. On a hill. With a horse. Luckily my destination was just at the bottom of the hill and a couple houses to the left, so I trudged on, taking care not to land too hard on the rock. That rock reminded me of its presence all the way down and around the back of the house. At which point I sat down... and didn't take the rock out of my boot. Because the moment I sat down my foot stopped registering its presence. Instead I became absorbed with greeting my friends and taking a much needed water break. 

45 minutes later I still had not removed the rock from my boot. And the only reason I know this is because I stood up and started walking again. That time I made it to the front yard and sidewalk (thankfully not on a hill) and I finally took care of the rock. That rock might not be stuck in my boot, but it is stuck in my memory. 

On the ride back up the hill I started thinking about all the rocks I'd found in my boots recently. Rocks that take the form of pet peeves, minor irritations, or realizations about personality ticks that need some attention. Oh! How I wish I could discover and eliminate the human weaknesses I find in myself without "walking" on them first. Unfortunately, the only way I seem to realize my mortal foibles is by stepping wrong, embarrassing myself, damaging relationships, and overall just messing up. And it's when I'm in the middle of a hill, leading a horse, and sliding on asphalt that I can actually look back and realize that the last 20 steps have been hard and painful because there's a rock in my boot! A rock that, let's face it, is really small, really harmless, and extremely easy to remove. If I just take the time to take off that boot and dump it out. 

And there are so many moments in my life that I look back and remember, wishing vainly I could have realized that I had a problem I needed to resolve without actually experiencing the problem. I wish I could have become more kind before I'd hurt so many people. I wish I could have forgiven my friends and family before I lost promising relationships. I wish I could have gotten over my fear of asking questions before I embarrassed myself by not knowing the answers. I wish I could have let go of so many things, so many irritations, habits, judgements, and beliefs before they'd caused me pain and discomfort. 

But that's just not the way rocks work. I dare say you're never going to discover a rock in your boot without moving. Sitting still just isn't how you feel a rock in your boot. Nope! Those are found only when you take a step forward - in any direction. Rocks are found after miles of pleasant, uninterrupted trail. Which is interesting to think about when you think about it. So very often I've thought that the rocks in my boots characterized most of my life. Most of who I am as an individual. Most of my beliefs and experiences. When in reality, most of me is described by the long stretches of life when I'm doing fine, moving forward, and enjoying who I am. Rocks, are only a small - very small - part of that. When recognized, if immediately addressed, they affect no more than a minute of your life. 

Yet if that's true, then why does it seem like the rocks are so prevalent and unpleasant? My best guess is that I spend so much time worrying about the next rock I'll find, or so much time stressing about the rocks I just removed, that I forget that those rocks aren't a part of me - not yet - not anymore. I could either spend my time thinking about the 8 miles of beautiful countryside inside of myself, or wonder and obsess about the rocks I might be accruing during that time. And if I did think about the rocks all that time, I would probably be stopping every few minutes to check my boots and be sure no rocks had snuck in. And I could either ponder the joy of moving forward again, or a could consider the trouble that one rock had caused. I could look ahead to the time when I will meet new people, built stronger friendships, and find my way home, or I could concern myself with the harrowing thoughts of people I'd missed or the friendships I'd hurt because of that rock. 

So, on the back of the horse, in the bright sunshine that Saturday afternoon, I decided that the next time I find a rock in my boot I am going to get it out as quickly as I can. I'm not going to remember the troubles that rock has caused in my life, instead I'm going to remember how easily the rock was removed. And instead of dreading the next rock in my path I'll remind myself how simple it is to dump it out and let it go.