Jennifer Silverman, The Curious Columnist. File photo
As a tween, the popular expression, “walk a mile in someone else’s shoes” always made me cringe. My imagination conjured up scenes of trotting down dusty dirt roads to nowhere in icky bowling shoes.
In my adolescent, literal interpretation, bowling shoes were likely the most unappealing shoes I could conceive of. They’re not aesthetically pleasing, they’re rather uncomfortable, and the very idea of them feels skeevy.
I’m not sure why I didn’t opt to instead envision marching a mile in stilettos on a fabulous Parisian runway. As far as I can tell, colorful yet tangible phrases like these tend to convey a message within an image that somehow rings true. Plus, our imaginations have a will all their own.
My youthful bowling shoe imagery may seem totally random, but somehow, it accurately illustrates the point of the proverb. Walking a mile in someone else’s shoes is uncomfortable and foreign. It compels us to experience the world according to someone else’s reality and enables us to broaden our perspectives and become more empathetic.
I recently discovered another metaphor of sorts that likewise renders distinct experiences far more relatable. The Spoon Theory was developed on the fly in 2003 by a writer who suffered from the autoimmune disease, lupus.
Christine Miserandino was sharing a plate of disco fries with her bestie - that’s diner lingo for french fries topped with gravy. She hatched the spoon theory when her BFF inquired what living with lupus actually felt like.
Inspired by her surroundings, she grabbed handfuls of spoons from nearby tables and went on to explain that each of us is only allotted so many spoons on any given day. Those with chronic illnesses or disabilities have access to far fewer spoons or bursts of energy, to support their activities. So, they are forced to earmark their spoons accordingly.
Miserandino explained that tasks that many of us take for granted, like getting out of bed or bathing, may alone deplete one’s available spoons. Her theory emphasizes that none of us can dictate how much energy we have access to or when it will replenish. It doesn’t accrue like vacation days, and returning partially used spoons violates life’s return policy – there are no returns. No exchanges. No refunds.
Although this ingenious analogy was intended to enable individuals who don’t face significant physical hardships to understand the plight of those who do, it also delivers wisdom on other fronts. If all of us are only able to get our hands on so many spoons each day, are we utilizing our precious spoons to the fullest over our lifetimes?
Do we elect to devote our spoons to positive or negative thoughts and actions? Would we rather dedicate our spoons to endeavors we’re passionate about, or those in which we’re pressured to pursue? How often do we appreciate our spoons, and close our eyes at night knowing we made good use of them?
In the days since I learned about The Spoon Theory, I’ve realized that I regularly burn through stacks of spoons with unproductive overthinking. With this new awareness, I am moving on more swiftly and applying my surplus spoons to worthwhile pursuits. Seeing our energy and resources as spoons can empower us to reframe decisions and actions, being mindful of better allocating our time and appreciating the time we have.
Walking a mile in someone else’s shoes is no easy feat, but an arsenal of spoons at the ready just might prompt us to choose wisely and be the people we want to be. I don’t know about you, but I doubt I’ll ever again see spoons as mere utensils.
Jennifer Silverman has served as a celebrity wardrobe stylist for hundreds of TV personalities and professional athletes. A few of her favorite projects include the Olympic Games and the Oscars. Silverman and her Westie, Petunia, relocated from Manhattan to Amelia Island in 2019. Additional quirky commentary penned by Silverman is available by visiting www.CuriousColumnist.com Email her at Jennifer@CuriousColumnist.com