I am surrounded by miracles. Hot showers. Full belly. Medical and dental plan. Great mountain view from my living room. This list is long. Somewhere on that list, between miracle #79 and #432, are my slippers.
In my view, a miracle is something wonderful that comes to you by way of an easy handoff. A good example is the McDonald’s drive-thru. Food—fast and easy—hallelujah. The same can be said of my slippers. At relatively little expense to me, someone in Austria dreamed up the Giesswein Company and harnessed ingenuity, artistry, industry and magic to create a perfect slipper. To amaze me further, they delivered them to my front door a mere two days after I placed my order. I repeat—hallelujah.
Miracles are meant to be mysterious, so it’s none of my business how these slippers are made. The sheep who supply the wool, the weavers who produce the fabric, the dyers who formulate that incredible shade of blue, and the sculpture who molded—they do it to make my life better. It’s the Giesswein way of nudging me into the comfort zone.
In the comfort zone, there is no sense of deprivation. I have the sense of being exactly where I need to be. What I do there is exactly what I need to be doing. There is no pressure to hurry because there is all the time in the world. The slippers transport me there instantly—that’s the miracle.
I don’t want to disparage my regular shoes. But I have to say, when I slip them off, I feel relief. My regular shoes are a nagging reminder of all the running around I have to do and the inevitability of exhaustion. They have one speed: accelerate. My regular shoes are reserved for necessary evils, which are miracles, too, but their place is on a different list. My magic slippers are the antidote. They encourage me to slow down. Slower. Slower. Slower. They defy physics and shrink my world making everything I need within easy reach. In my slippers, I have nowhere far to go. In fact, they impress on me that any attempt to go farther than my front door is pure insanity. And I believe them. When I put on my slippers, I enjoy existing. I read books. I visit with family. I sit and contemplate. I do all things at a relaxed pace.
I have too much respect for the Giesswein company to mess with the formula: they sweat a little so I can put my feet up and leisurely absorb all the goodness that comes from my slippers. In the morning, I’ll put on my regular shoes and sweat a little, too—I’ll take my turn laboring so I can be someone else’s miracle. That’s how we make life fair for all people. That’s how we make the world beautiful for everyone. If I sound naïve, maybe that’s just the slippers talking–I’ve been wearing them the whole time that I’ve been writing this blog post.
Into the Comfort Zone 