life is a jumble of socks

life is like laundry and it's full of missing socks. 

“One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books.” 
― J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone

every christmas i get new socks. and they are always warm and fuzzy. like hugs for my feet. life can be full of hugs. or it can be full of missing; missing someone, or something, or some experience. no matter what we do, loss is inevitable just like all the unmatched socks that come out of the drier. 

“When I was young I found out that the big toe always ends up making a hole in a sock.
So I stopped wearing socks.” 
― Albert Einstein

one way to deal with the pressures of life is to stop living. to hide away from the world by not dealing with it. dp says that my feet eat through socks. she accuses my toe nails of ripping through the fabric. i think that's how people approach life - they either rend slowly, making holes, or aggressively rip their way through the fabric of their life. i am a slow hole maker. i often sit back and let life pass me by. i often feel like i am the missing sock. 

“Granny always said finding justice was as tough as putting socks on a rooster.” 
― Jessica Maria Tuccelli, Glow

it feels like justice is lost in this world. so many terrible things are happening and there is nothing i can do to help. the news makes me anxious and sad. all around the world there is violence and loss. not the inevitable loss that comes with the cycle of life, but loss caused by violence. it has reached the point where i can't listen to the news.  

“I experience the same level of intense concentration watching a thrilling tennis match as I do hunched over a heaping pile of warm socks diligently searching for exact matches.” 
― Gregor Collins, The Accidental Caregiver: How I Met, Loved, and Lost Legendary Holocaust Refugee Maria Altmann

the laundry is not my job. i do the cooking and dp takes care of cleaning our clothes. but i do have the job of folding the socks. folding socks is like searching for the meaning of life. there on the table is a jumble of colours, sizes, textures ... and it's my job to sort them out, match them, and fold them. then put them neatly in the drawer, into baskets sorted by colour and type. life is a jumble of experiences and our brain sorts out those experiences through our senses. life is a jumble and we spend it trying to fit everything into baskets, sorted accordingly. and no matter what we do, there is always an unmatched sock. 


be kind to yourself, 

xoxo

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