I hang on too long. Except when I give up too easily. But often, I hang on too long.Nearly two decades ago, I was part of a breakfast group. I liked these four women enough to meet them for breakfast once a week (or once a month? hazy) at 7 a.m. (It seems incredible to Ms. Not-a-Morning-Person now.) We met to talk about "Plan B." I'm up to about Plan Q at this point, but I still remember our earnest belief that meeting to talk about the future helped us create said future. I still believe it.
I remember only a few things that were planned around that table. However, I do remember saying that I wanted to learn to move on when I had learned my lesson instead of hanging on long past that point.
All these years later, I don't know that I'm any better at it.
I got rid of a pair of socks this morning. My toe had poked through the end. They were lumpy and ratty and puddled at the ankle more often than not. But they were an important pair of socks. They were my loon socks. My sister gave them to me in my Christmas stocking about 15 years ago. I wore them in Colorado to remind myself that an important part of me lived up here already--that this place where I now am would be part of my life always, though I didn't quite see how.
And yeah, they kept my feet kinda warm, as was their job. Until they got lumpy and ratty. And then the hole. "But they are my loon socks," I kept thinking as I pulled them from the dryer, then paired and folded them and stuck them back into my drawer. "My loon socks!" I would think when I put them on.
Finally, last night, I looked at my toe poking through the hole and thought, "Maybe it's time to let go of these."
Maybe? Ya think?
Functionally, they've outlived their usefulness.
Emotionally--well, I've been a permanent resident for more than four years now. My husband and I are celebrating our 29th lunar-versary next week. I'm here. I'm staying. So I probably don't need those socks emotionally, either.
It's not just socks. A particular friendship--is it time to let go or should I hang on, keep trying? A relationship with a specific organization--I let it go, but I miss it; is there a boundary I can set that will let me make contact again? Parts of me that I had to set aside during the move here--are they part of my past, or should I dust them off again? Can I get rid of something I'm currently hanging onto so that there's more room for them--or even for something new?
I put my loon socks into the hamper. I'll wash and dry them again, and then I will put them with the clothing to be donated--not because anyone else wants them, but because the organization sells what it can't use and eventually the rags make their way into paper. That's better than sending them (my loon socks!) to the landfill. I've taken their picture (something I learned from watching Clean Sweep), so I can look at them as often as I want, and they're only taking up bytes.
Sometimes I do hang on too long. And sometimes I still give up too soon. But I hold out hope that I'm better at making those decisions
--thanks in part to that breakfast group, many years ago.
