String too short to be used for anything

What we hold on to

A few days ago I was chatting with my massage therapist about decluttering. With our move coming up, I’ve been cleaning, organizing, and decluttering a lot, and we were exchanging stories about our various experiences with either moving or dissolving households.

“A few years ago I helped a friend dissolve his late parents’ house,” he began. “They were the kind of people who couldn’t throw anything away, and they kept everything in jars—buttons, nails, screws, batteries. But when I came across one particular jar I burst out laughing: it was labelled ‘string too short to be used for anything’. Why in the world would they keep string that’s literally unusable? I couldn’t believe it.”

We had a good laugh about it before moving on—but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. I think we all have jars where we keep stuff that doesn’t serve us, but we hold on to it nonetheless. Jars filled with resentment, things someone said to us that hurt us, the embarrassing incident that happened in high school that we can’t let go of.

More recently, I’ve been collecting the political insanity that’s happening in the US and all over the world, adding more and more string that can’t be used for anything in jars labelled, ‘hatred against women’, ‘injustice’, ‘racism’, ‘fascism’, ‘crazy shit billionaires do’. Like many of us, I feel an obligation to pay attention, to bear witness, to make sure I don’t grow numb to the insanity, because I never want it to start feeling normal. That must never happen—a numb population is one that stops fighting and accepts the unacceptable.
But how useful is it to collect more and more examples of their depravity? Is it serving anything if I keep absorbing the news?

In the past, I’ve often taken long breaks from the news. I didn’t watch them, didn’t read anything online, stayed away from Facebook, and unfollowed anyone on IG who was political in any way. I followed poets, artists, yogis, nature enthusiasts, and people with unconventional lifestyles. The algorithm shows us more of what we consume, which means you have some influence over what your feed looks like.

However, this isn’t the right choice for me this time. I want to stay informed, I want to be wide awake, and I want to be part of the resistance, no matter how small a part it is.

I’ve been reading a lot of women’s fiction set during the first and second world wars, stories about women who were part of the war effort (WW1) or the resistance (WW2). Tales like Kristin Hannah’s The Nightingale, Jennifer Chiaverini’s Canary Girls, Resistance Women, and Switchboard Soldiers are based on real stories and real women, and they give me hope and lift my spirits. They are beautiful examples of women’s strength and resilience, and that nothing lasts forever. One key element in all those stories is that the protagonists seek and embrace joy and laughter. Friendship, sports, a pretty dress or going dancing helps them keep their spirits up, and it’s a timely reminder that joy in difficult times isn’t wrong, but essential.

I’m collecting joy like it’s my job. While I do have jars that hold heaviness—as mentioned above—I have many more that contain light and joy.
Here are just a few examples of what made me happy last week:

• Bridget Jones: Mad About The Boy. This movie is utter perfection. I cried several times, laughed many more times, and swooned over her beautiful, incredible house. Watch it! It’s an instant mood booster. Extra points if you do it in bed, with someone dear to you, eating sour candy.

• Considerate strangers. I walked up the mountain with the dogs the other day when a truck came towards us. There are very few vehicles where we walk, and judging by the driver’s expression, very few hikers with dogs as well. He stopped to let me know that his buddy was a minute or two behind him. I thanked him and hiked on, and sure enough, a minute later I saw the other truck. He pulled comically far over to the side, almost climbing up the embankment, to make sure I had enough room for myself and the dogs. “My buddy called and told me you’re coming,” he said when I approached him, “I just wanted to make sure I don’t hit your dogs.” What a nice gesture.

• Sisterhood. After a lifetime of neglecting female relationships, I now surround myself with women as much as possible. Be it friends, relatives, my local yoga class, co-workers, medical professionals, or authors, I’m catching up on lost time, and I enjoy it immensely. I didn’t realize how much I missed having sisterhood in my life, and I feel immeasurably rich for having finally found it.

• Doing something scary. I’ve done two things that scared me last week:
  Shaved my head (to support someone I love who’s going through cancer), and painted our popcorn ceiling. One was a lot more painful than the other—painting a popcorn ceiling is no joke.

  

• Hormone Replacement Therapy. I’ve been having some pretty intense perimenopause symptoms over the last few months (mostly cramping and bloating, and extreme emotional ups and downs), so I’ve started taking extra estrogen. It’s only been a week, but I can already feel a difference! The cramps are mostly gone, and the bloating has significantly decreased. I’m feeling so much better!

• House progress. Our new house is coming along, which makes me so happy! Since we’re moving an entire farm we have to get the new place ready for the animals as well, which means we won’t be moving for a few months yet. But just seeing the house almost completed is a thrill!

  

• Longer days. Witnessing the end of winter is always exciting. As much as I enjoy winter, the energy of the earth awakening is contagious! My energy is returning as well, and it makes me feel strong and empowered.

• Spending time with the grandkids. I hung out with my grandbabies for a few days, and it was wonderful. I love being a grandma.

I believe that one of the most important things right now is to not give in to despair. To embrace each other instead of hating them. To stay open and loving instead of shutting down and mistrusting everyone. To seek out beauty and joy instead of solely focusing on ugliness and hopelessness.

We collect so much baggage throughout a lifetime—make sure that you collect pleasure, bliss, and happiness as well. Here’s to adding some jars of joy to our shelves!