Every man's body is a measure for his
property, as the foot is the measure for his shoe.
If you stick to this limit, you will
keep the right measure; if you go beyond it, you are bound to be carried away
down a precipice in the end; just as with the shoe, if you once go beyond the
foot, your shoe puts on gilding, and soon purple and embroidery.
For when once you go beyond the measure
there is no limit.
—Epictetus,
The Handbook, Chapter 39 (tr
Matheson)
If
the shoe fits, wear it. If I can find myself shoes that are comfortable, that
help me to walk well, and are rugged enough to take me to all of the places I
need to go, I should really care for nothing else.
Throughout
my life, footwear has been a measure of status. In high school, my friends would
quite often define others by the clothes and shoes they wore. Mind you, this
was the middle of the 1980’s, and my circle was definitely very alternative, so
there was no other option to be “in” than wearing a pair of Dr. Martens 1460’s,
either in black or in oxblood. I found it amusing that there could ever be any
fashion that was alternative, which seemed in itself to be a contradiction.
By
the time I finally managed to get myself a pair, complete with the trendy
yellow laces, I was told that I was so behind the times. Vintage Soviet army
boots were now apparently the only way to go.
When
college came around, everyone was wearing what they were now calling “athletic
shoes”, equipped with all kinds of strange straps and pumping action, which
seemed more appropriate for sexual bondage than they did for footwear. I kept
wearing my 1460’s, and I still remained decidedly uncool.
What
I found, however, was that these boots were the most comfortable and the most
durable I had ever known. I never had a car, and I walked everywhere I went.
This was in New England, where rain and snow are the norm. They kept me warm,
dry, and seemed to last forever. I got used to being called the fellow with the
clown shoes, and at a certain point I simply stopped caring.
The
1460’s became popular again for a very brief period in the early 1990’s, this
time having been appropriated by the Grunge movement. That fashion also faded
from view, but those boots still remained reliable, because they always got me
where I needed to go, regardless of what people thought of them.
Perhaps
they will become trendy once again in my lifetime, but I will surely no longer
notice. Time can give us a better perspective, and we can all see how
ridiculous we are when we add image to necessity. This holds for many aspects
of life, from our clothes, to our cars, homes, careers, or politics.
Nature
herself provides the only measure for what I need, just as the foot provides
the only measure for the shoe. Once I add all the bells and whistles to the
simplicity of a life well lived, I have distracted myself from the task at
hand. Whenever I abandon such a measure, and I am no longer bound by my need,
that leaves me only with a limitless greed. This is the reason why the good man
is so easily satisfied, while the bad man will never have enough.
Written in 7/1999
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