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Entry tags:
of shoetying and bridesmaiding
Or, an essay written for SCP 457
In The Sacred Journey by Frederick Buechner, the author places a lot of emphasis on the existence of "beyond time" moments. These moments are, unbeknownst of themselves, times in which a person's paradigm is shifted and things change irrevocably somehow. I believe that many such moments have occurred in my own life, whether or not I am consciously aware of their impact.
In order for a moment to be "beyond time," Buechner says that "a power from beyond time [is] working to achieve its own aim through my aimless life in time as it works through the lives of all of us and all our times" (Buechner 95). Applying this definition to my own experience, I can think of a few moments which fit this definition perfectly. One of these moments is the day that I learned to tie my shoes.
Most children learn to tie their shoes at the age of four or five: well before Kindergarten. I, however, am not most children. For unknown reasons, my motor skills were not as developed as other children my age and I had trouble with many mundane things, such as opening car doors and writing. One of the major things I had trouble with was tying my shoes: my fingers simply could not navigate the loops and bunny ears of tying a set of shoelaces.
It was all right for a while, as many children in Kindergarten and first grade cannot tie their shoes and wear velcro-close shoes or slip-ons, but by the time I got to second grade (and my fourth school) it was less and less common. I really needed to learn to tie my shoes or I ran the risk of being that weird kid whose mother dresses them and cannot do anything for themself. I did not want to be that kid.
Because I moved a lot as a child, I did not have the luxury of a close-knit group of friends that I had known since preschool. I did, however, have one friend in the form of Sara Beverly. A little blonde girl who befriended most of the people in our class, Sara took special interest in me. She always made sure I had a friend to sit with at lunch or someone to hold my feet when we did sit-ups in PE: the kinds of things that are important to a seven year old. We had been friends for a few weeks when she noticed I did not wear shoes like the other kids.
Realizing I wore velcro shoes because I could not tie "grown-up shoes," Sara took it upon herself to teach me how to tie my shoes. Taking off one of her own, we sat on the risers in the music room for twenty minutes while she showed me the proper technique for tying the laces and making sure they would stay tied.
At the time, it was a major accomplishment. In the grand scheme of life, it was quickly shoved aside for other, more important rites of passage, like first kisses and first dates and going off to college. In fact, I can imagine that most people do not remember learning how to tie their shoes: it just happened and got buried under the deluge of other memories from childhood.
However, for me, learning that simple task was more than what it seemed on the surface. Not only had I gained a skill, I gained a connection. For a child who had moved from town to town, sometimes twice in a year, making a connection was a very important thing. I had this tangible connection to Sara that nothing would tear apart, or so I hoped. When I did move away, I still remembered her and remembered that day she taught me to tie my shoes: it was a beyond time moment.
My shoe-tying experience fits Buechner's definition of beyond time because of the effect it had later in my life. I eventually made my way back to middle Georgia after years of living all over and, in the process, decided to attend Mercer University. Unbeknownst to me, Sara was also planning to attend Mercer and the two of us met again and rekindled our friendship at a scholarship banquet before our freshman year.
Normally, a friendship during childhood does not blossom into an adult friendship, especially not when the two people have been separated for years, but it worked for Sara and I. Sara went from the girl that taught me to tie my shoes to a lifelong connection. I live with her now and I am to be a bridesmaid in her wedding in June, just as she will be a bridesmaid in mine. I can imagine we will be friends forever, a strong connection for someone who does not normally make such connections. I find it fascinating that shoelace tying resulted in such a strong connection, but such is the nature of life.
This incident proved to me that connections are sparked, not forced. I could have been forced into camaraderie with other classmates of mine but I doubt that any would have resulted in the strong friendship I have with Sara now. I truly believe this is an instance of beyond time, a moment in which I realized that while many things change and grow, some things, the important things, remain fundamentally the same.
As much as I have changed over the years, somehow I was able to retain a glimmer of what I used to be so much that Sara not only recognized me, but was able to rekindle a friendship that had been lost for ten years. I realized that friendship is stronger than the boundaries of time and space and that even the smallest moment can spark that connection in two people and result in something beautiful and unbreakable. This, to me, is truly beyond time.
In The Sacred Journey by Frederick Buechner, the author places a lot of emphasis on the existence of "beyond time" moments. These moments are, unbeknownst of themselves, times in which a person's paradigm is shifted and things change irrevocably somehow. I believe that many such moments have occurred in my own life, whether or not I am consciously aware of their impact.
In order for a moment to be "beyond time," Buechner says that "a power from beyond time [is] working to achieve its own aim through my aimless life in time as it works through the lives of all of us and all our times" (Buechner 95). Applying this definition to my own experience, I can think of a few moments which fit this definition perfectly. One of these moments is the day that I learned to tie my shoes.
Most children learn to tie their shoes at the age of four or five: well before Kindergarten. I, however, am not most children. For unknown reasons, my motor skills were not as developed as other children my age and I had trouble with many mundane things, such as opening car doors and writing. One of the major things I had trouble with was tying my shoes: my fingers simply could not navigate the loops and bunny ears of tying a set of shoelaces.
It was all right for a while, as many children in Kindergarten and first grade cannot tie their shoes and wear velcro-close shoes or slip-ons, but by the time I got to second grade (and my fourth school) it was less and less common. I really needed to learn to tie my shoes or I ran the risk of being that weird kid whose mother dresses them and cannot do anything for themself. I did not want to be that kid.
Because I moved a lot as a child, I did not have the luxury of a close-knit group of friends that I had known since preschool. I did, however, have one friend in the form of Sara Beverly. A little blonde girl who befriended most of the people in our class, Sara took special interest in me. She always made sure I had a friend to sit with at lunch or someone to hold my feet when we did sit-ups in PE: the kinds of things that are important to a seven year old. We had been friends for a few weeks when she noticed I did not wear shoes like the other kids.
Realizing I wore velcro shoes because I could not tie "grown-up shoes," Sara took it upon herself to teach me how to tie my shoes. Taking off one of her own, we sat on the risers in the music room for twenty minutes while she showed me the proper technique for tying the laces and making sure they would stay tied.
At the time, it was a major accomplishment. In the grand scheme of life, it was quickly shoved aside for other, more important rites of passage, like first kisses and first dates and going off to college. In fact, I can imagine that most people do not remember learning how to tie their shoes: it just happened and got buried under the deluge of other memories from childhood.
However, for me, learning that simple task was more than what it seemed on the surface. Not only had I gained a skill, I gained a connection. For a child who had moved from town to town, sometimes twice in a year, making a connection was a very important thing. I had this tangible connection to Sara that nothing would tear apart, or so I hoped. When I did move away, I still remembered her and remembered that day she taught me to tie my shoes: it was a beyond time moment.
My shoe-tying experience fits Buechner's definition of beyond time because of the effect it had later in my life. I eventually made my way back to middle Georgia after years of living all over and, in the process, decided to attend Mercer University. Unbeknownst to me, Sara was also planning to attend Mercer and the two of us met again and rekindled our friendship at a scholarship banquet before our freshman year.
Normally, a friendship during childhood does not blossom into an adult friendship, especially not when the two people have been separated for years, but it worked for Sara and I. Sara went from the girl that taught me to tie my shoes to a lifelong connection. I live with her now and I am to be a bridesmaid in her wedding in June, just as she will be a bridesmaid in mine. I can imagine we will be friends forever, a strong connection for someone who does not normally make such connections. I find it fascinating that shoelace tying resulted in such a strong connection, but such is the nature of life.
This incident proved to me that connections are sparked, not forced. I could have been forced into camaraderie with other classmates of mine but I doubt that any would have resulted in the strong friendship I have with Sara now. I truly believe this is an instance of beyond time, a moment in which I realized that while many things change and grow, some things, the important things, remain fundamentally the same.
As much as I have changed over the years, somehow I was able to retain a glimmer of what I used to be so much that Sara not only recognized me, but was able to rekindle a friendship that had been lost for ten years. I realized that friendship is stronger than the boundaries of time and space and that even the smallest moment can spark that connection in two people and result in something beautiful and unbreakable. This, to me, is truly beyond time.
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I also am glad that I'm not the only weirdo who took forever to learn to tie her shoes. :)
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