Guest Post by Stephanie Polsky

The other day I tossed away a pair of slippers I had bought last year at the start of Covid. By the time I finally put them out for trash day, the soles of both of them had already fallen to pieces. Despite their obvious state of disrepair, I had trouble parting with them. 

Note: This article is written by Life Coach and Transatlantic Author Stephanie Polsky, her biography and contact info can be found at the bottom of this post.

Every day of my new house-bound life started with gently pushing my feet into them as I went about my day. Their only rest came in the ritual of ending my day and placing them gingerly on the landing of my upstairs bedroom. 

In the past weeks, walking in them had become somewhat precarious as the soles loosened from their connection to their upperparts. Despite the new awkwardness, and indeed, how it was subtly impeding my movements, I could not easily let go of them. 

In the end, I needed to come to an understanding that these slippers were no longer serving the need they once did in my life.

They had gone from being an element of reassuring morning ritual to something of a painful routine of making do with what was, rather than aspiring for something that would support me far better. 

So much of this experience was a metaphor for other things in my life that I was putting up with, not because they were comfortable, but because they were known. They had gone well past the reason for their use to a place where they were potentially harmful to my progress. Still, it was taking me a long time to recognise that itself was a hazard. To stay loyal to something that had outlasted its utility in my life. 

I had to ask myself about what other bargains I had struck recently with things that have become painful, because of “my own denial”. What else had I been holding out on, withholding from myself for the sake of an attitude of making due, or quietly struggling against a condition of basic survival I was imposing on myself when there could be something out there that I could embrace again with passion. 

So, what happened?

Well, really two things.

One: they instilled a sense of delight in their novelty, a reassurance in that their whimsical companionship (they featured squirrel patchwork, complete with nut offerings for my new companions to grasp onto!) would help me chart a path into this unknown world of the first lockdown. 

Two: their extra padding allowed me to feel that extra bit of protection as my feet crossed the threshold on the linoleum floor of my kitchen floor each tentative morning. 

I enjoyed looking down as I made my breakfast at those adorable faces positioned upwards towards my own, at a time when nature outside my door seems to equally call for my attention. 

And then time passed as it does, and they got less of my attention, as the new normal found its ways into my daily rhythm of life. And so, it was in all that boredom, worry, distraction, and adjustment that these slippers pressed themselves into loyal service day in, day out. Some of my other immediate relationships at home got similar treatment from me no doubt. So, it was that the year passed. I simply forgot to look at them anymore… 

Until they became features of disturbance in my life. Through their progressive collapse they reminded me that other things were also becoming like that from my life previous to this most unusual and distressing year. 

In my sorrow, I had to admit the obvious; that things fall apart, and outlive their usefulness if we are not careful with them and about them.

Even if we are, they ultimately will find their ways towards obsolescence at various speeds. We all do, and will. At that very moment when we find ourselves at that fork in the path of letting go, we must perform one more act of ritual to honour the thing we once loved. 

At that moment it is time to thank your slippers for everything they have meant to you, how perfectly they fit your needs, the wisdom of their exact timing to come and now go from your life and finally, for you to bid them gratitude in their departure. 

Letting go of things means admitting that something new is needed and wants to arrive in that place. This time around, I was yearning for something completely different. And my heart says…bunnies.

About the Author

Stephanie Polsky is a transatlantic author and ideas explorer working across the United States and the United Kingdom. She is currently completing her training to become a certified Martha Beck Wayfinder Life Coach.

As a coach, Stephanie specializes in helping her clients cultivate greater levels of appreciation for their unique journey in life on route to achieving their personal and professional goals. She is currently accepting clients and can be contacted at pathsherpalifecoaching@gmail.com