beneath the skin

A discussion about religion this morning had me sharing this post written by a UK Muslim woman. When I first read this I found myself saying "how true, how true". I think that the more I live in this "free, liberal" culture, the more I understand that such freedom can also be a form of entrapment.

I defend my right to dress in comfortable clothing, to wear jeans that fit in my definition of "fit", to wear make-up only when I feel like it, and to wear shoes that support me and wont lead to a shakey fall.

Today another beautiful bride was married in our beautiful, ancient church. As I headed up towards the piazza in my NZ footwear, purchased with good grip on cobblestones in mind, I passed a young couple going down. She had her hand delicately on his shoulder, walking a little behind, her head slightly turned. At first I thought she was unable to see. But see she could; once again it was the incredible shoes causing the delay. They made slow if beautiful progress down the sloping cobblestone path.

It could be that I am the one trapped in my own stubborn ways, or that I am unknowingly envious of the beautiful and the elegant. But, at the end of the day, I know which form of supposed entrapment I prefer. Give me the hijaab over the heels any day!

Today I am grateful for a mind of my own.