Trainers

Why do we always want more?

Last week I was lying in the London Fields’ sunset, Hackney, saying I wanted more trainers. Beer in hand, I was lusting. Eyeing up flashy pairs fliting across my vision. Treading in the dry grass. Ah... the envy.

“I really want more trainers. But I can’t afford them. UGH!”

To be clear – my current ‘white kickers’ (I call them) – Adidas – are my best friend. Flicking them on in the morning is as natural as brushing my teeth. I feel naked without them (and not in a fun way). They’re a bit beaten up, sure, because I love to walk. But wearing them more grounds me in that.

I was envisioning a new white pair, a different brand, that would add a flame to my step.

But then I thought back to my adventures. The grinning, laughing and dancing Malawian locals (of all ages) who played through life in the most charming, childlike way. All in flow.

The Japanese philosophy of haru hachu bu (腹八分目) – eat until your 80% full – which plays a mindful part in their longevity and silently sings their appreciation of life.

The pent-up Londoners, moaning about 2k bonuses and living in a constant state of tension until their promotion and pay bump. They get to the top of the hill, then plateau. The tea runs cold.

Because the happiness is in the doing, not the result.

Why do we always want more? It strays us from the present and takes the world out of HD.

2 days later... when I got home... I spotted a pair of Timberland trainers on my shoe rack. My Mum had bought them for me a couple of years back, but I never really gave them a thought. Dismissing them as not for me.

But as I tried them on my whole body lit up. Safe and comfortable like a warm hug from a best friend. Perfect for forest walking with my dog.

I think life is about appreciation of what you have, and how it makes you feel. What spiritual sides of yourself it sings to and nourishes. Unlocks.

I love my trainers.