I Hope You Get Sand in Your Socks

For many years, I didn’t take off my shoes when simply going for a stroll on the beach. You know, one of those days when you don’t go sunbathing but you want to be close to the ocean.

“I’ll get sand in my socks,” I would think. “I’ll have to take off my shoes, wipe off my feet, put on my shoes again, and, inevitably, I’ll get sand in my socks.”

I was so focused on the possible discomfort that I discarded what a joy it would be to feel the moist sand under my feet. To wade through the edge of the water. To ground myself on the earth.

Luckily, I made a friend who noticed what was going on and who talked some sense into me – or out of me, perhaps? A friend who didn’t mind getting sand in her socks. 

Now, I take my shoes off whenever I’m at the beach.
I take my shoes off in parks and let my toes wiggle through the grass.
I figure that whatever gets dirty, can be washed.
Whatever bit of nature my clothing happens to hold on to, will remind me of the lovely moment I had.

You may think I was silly, all those years, and you’d be right.
But can you confidently say you never put discomfort before joy?

I hope you can.

I hope you get your hair in a mess while dancing in the rain.
I hope you wear your nice clothes on a regular day.

I hope you hug your friends “hi” when it’s sweaty outside.
I hope you get sand in your socks, and let it be all right.

Because worse than a little discomfort is a lot of regret,
about all those things you left unused, undone, and unsaid.