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How my Privos Forced me to Face my Discontent With Life

Posted Sep 20 2009 12:29pm

I was strolling through the mall with my Privos on, caffe latte in one hand and shopping bags in the other.  It was an ordinary day, really. 

As people passed by, I started observing them.  I began to reflect on my life, and how the many dreams I had for myself as a girl had become the faint reveries of someone I had once been.  In that moment, and at that time, the mall seemed so irrelevant to what I was experiencing that I sat on the floor.  I have to say here that one of my favorite things to do is people watch.  I have a knack for guessing what a person does just by glancing at that their clothing and observing their manneurism.

My life flashed before me...It agitated me in such a way, that the only thing I could do was sit.  The strangers around me did not bother me one bit.  For the most part, they cruised by, seemingly uninterested, and not involving themselves in what was an obvious nervous breakdown.  I sat on the floor, completely paralized by the fear of my future, and by the knowledge that my past had undetectably repeated itself time and time again. It had been full of quiet discontent - the kind that remains hidden forever from everyone else but your source. 

And that's when it happened.  I spotted my Privos and started to cry.  It was the cry Oprah calls "the ugly cry."  Those tears, I promise you, felt like lead drops on my face; both heavy and dark.

I don't quite understand how I transitioned into this moment of bizarre reflection, but there I was, in full arrest of my activities and sitting on the mall floor. 

You see, what I realized is that the Privos represented something... they meant that I was comfortable playing the role of wife and mother.  They meant that I had successfully adopted my husband's dreams as my own.  They meant that I sought comfort for the purposes of the carpool lane and the after school chauffeuring,  and they meant that I had disappeared into the world of habbit prone women with one objective in life: the nurturing of others.  I no longer recognized myself and did not like who I had passified my "self" into becoming. 

This was all I needed to make a change.  As I got up, it was never more clear to me that there could no longer be the denial of my disappearance from the life I expected for myself many years ago.  I went back home and dug up the old journals in which a young girl's written dreams would soon become a woman's reality.

This article is dedicated to Marie, a friend, a wife, a mother and a seeker. 

(For those of you who don't know what Privos are, they are the most comfortable shoes you could ever wear...A cross between shoes and sneakers.)

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