What comes first?

In Walden, Thoreau offers the following sentiment: "I say beware of all enterprises that require new clothes, and not rather a new wearer of clothes." He probes our material desires, obsession with all things new and fashionable, and need to supplement new pursuits with all the material accoutrements that can become a pursuit in their own right, displacing the authenticity of engagement in things meaningful and pleasurable.

That being said: I have two new hobbies, and each required a new pair of shoes. I wonder: am I a new wearer of clothes? are these passions making me into that new person?

First was dancing. I've loved dancing since childhood and generally take any opportunity available to dance. In June I began salsa dancing. I quickly discovered that NO shoes in my existing collection would do the job. They were too high or too low, too bulky or not supportive enough, with soles too slippery or too sticky. I decided that my love of dance was worth investing in, and bought a pair of not-so-beautiful but fully functional dance shoes in Vancouver. The first time I danced in them, I knew it was a new era of dance for me. I could fly!

My shoes went missing recently. I attended a latin dance party, and left without taking my shoe bag. At first I thought they were gone forever. I tried dancing in other pairs, but they kept falling off, slowing me down, impeding that optimal dance experience. I soon tracked down the dance coordinator who had picked them up after the event. Almost 2 weeks later, we finally connected and I got my shoes back. And I was back to dancing again.

My friend Naomi took me rock climbing recently at an indoor gym here. As soon as I started, a feeling of joy came over me. The same as dance, since childhood I have loved climbing things, manipulating my body, doing anything acrobatic. Rock climbing was pure joy, complete focus, and completely me. So this weekend in Vancouver, I bought another pair of shoes, this time for rock climbing. I spent two of the best shopping hours ever trying on a variety shoes in stores on Broadway, trying them out on the indoor rock walls they provided. At first I felt quite self conscious. These were highly public places, with rows of customers right behind me checking out, browsing, being outdoorsy. But then I started climbing, and the same feeling of sheer exhilaration came over me. I was climbing. There was nothing else to think about.

I bought the shoes. And I've concluded that maybe these are new clothes; or maybe it's just a new me.