Batman and My Foot Surgeon's Shoes

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Batman and My Foot Surgeon’s Shoes

Today, I am admiring the fancy leather shoes on my foot surgeon’s feet. Fancy leather shoes are a delight. If I was smarter about shoes I would probably know if they are Armani, Dolce & Gabbana, or Prada. I try not to stare at them during my appointment. They are a comforting brown like milk chocolate, elegantly soft like the bathrobe at the Michelin-rated hotel we stayed at in Dublin this summer, the one with High Tea and a breathtaking art collection. His Batman socks — revealed when he leans back to answer my questions after having leaned forward and listened intently to my situation — soothe my frazzled-surgery-anticipating-anxious nerves.

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Today, I learned that I look for heroes. I look for people to heal me. I look for people to save me. I look for people to love me. (In the case of my foot surgeon, it makes sense. He is supposed to heroically use his superpowers to repair the torn ligament in my left foot.) I really hate to admit that I look for heroes. I hate to acknowledge I look outside myself for the things I seek. It is very unDorothy, who learns along the yellow brick road that she has had the power she seeks all along. I am scared and sad and angry right now. The list of what makes me cry is long. I believe in most of my mind and body that I am whole and was made for this very moment, which is why it irks me that I look outside myself for heroes. I want to think I want to kick my own asses and take my own names.

I think about Batman. The anti-superhero. He does not scale tall buildings or turn green and break things. He does not have x-ray vision or come from another planet. He is simply stinking wealthy and uses his wealth for good. He even brings his do-gooder friends along to right the world’s wrongs. He is the kind of hero I can get behind. He is the kind of hero we all have inside. Though it’s so much more than.

Thanks for reading about my search for heroes. If you like this, and can relate to the tension between wanting to kick ass and take names, right after taking a bubble bath, subscribe to the Wide-Awakeness Project