Socks

Sock drawers as metaphors for existential transformation

Sock Monkey Socks Photo by Marnie Ritch

You can tell how I approach life by looking at my sock drawers. (Who, besides me, needs two sock drawers anyway?) One of them has socks with a variety of colors, textures and patterns. Like the purple ones with pictures of embroidered monkeys on them. These monkeys look like the sock monkeys my Aunt Sadie sewed me as a Christmas present when she was going through her crafty period. The one before her nervous breakdown. (Unfortunately, I inherited more than a love of creativity from Aunt Sadie.) Or consider the fuzzy turquoise and pink footies with the little non-slide nubbies on the bottom that my mom brought me when I was in the psych-ward for two weeks battling my own darkness.

A pair of socks made its way into that story:

I was in the psychiatric hospital for a “mental adjustment” as a young, confused woman when I encountered an older man named Lorenzo. He was from Mexico and spoke little English. I am fuzzy as to the reasons, but they locked him up in this situation for an extended stay and rumored he would be deported soon.

Like I said, I was young, sad, in my early 20s, and lost. This elicited a paternal attitude toward me from Lorenzo. He would sit next to me at mealtime and sternly instruct me to “Eat! Eat!” pantomiming putting his fork to his mouth. I followed him around like a puppy, from groups to meals to outside smoke breaks. Although I didn’t smoke, I could get a look at the sun, whose shine had recently left my mind.

Since Lorenzo was incarcerated for so long in this facility, he had been witness to the revolving door that this place operated. People came in with mental problems or detoxing from drugs or alcohol. They sobered up, or lightened up, then left. Unfortunately, a couple of weeks later, many returned. Lorenzo would stand at the doorway as people were discharging from their stay at this “happy hotel”. He would wave to them and yell unsympathetically in his thick accent, “See you nex’ weeek!” This went on for the entire two weeks I was in patient.

Gradually, my smile came back and with it, the balance to my thoughts. My own day of departure arrived. As I walked to the exit, Lorenzo shouted, “Wait!” and ran to his room. The behavioral health tech who was escorting me out of the hospital waited impatiently as Lorenzo seemed to take an eternity to return. I wondered what treasure or keepsake he was seeking to impart to me. He finally came back carrying a pair of white gym socks with his initials written in black magic marker on the toes. “Here,” he said as he shoved them into my hands emphatically, like he was giving me his prized possession. “You doan come back!” He exclaimed with emphasis and turned around and walked away.

Why gym socks? What was their significance? I don’t know. Remember, Lorenzo was a passenger on the kooky train too, so possibly his reasons lacked clarity. However, at home after my ordeal, life would creep in. When I would begin feeling insecure and confused, I would pull on Lorenzo’s socks like a secret talisman. Outfitted in his “magic” fuzzy warmies, I walked around my world a little more comforted and secure.

With or without Lorenzo’s socks I struggled with alcoholism and mental illness for many years. I managed to stay sober and worked part-time as a peer support, sharing my experience with managing the two albatrosses around my neck. Gradually, with the help of my Higher Power and the aid of others on the path to recovery, I accumulated tools and 18 sober years of experiences that brought me to the place I am today; thriving and grateful.

My other sock drawer? That one lies filled with various sizes, shapes and pairs of black and white socks. Uniform, boring and stable. Like the discipline I’ve used to reign in my once chaotic existence and build structure, calm and peace into my life. Black and white. The yin and yang symbol for balance, which is what my life currently embodies.

The structure and discipline necessary to transform my thinking and habits is black and white. It enabled me to become a positive, fully functioning member of society. And while the benefits of this path have been abundant, unfortunately, I’ve sacrificed the color and texture of my creative life. I’ve been choosing the stability of my black and white sock drawer over the joie de vivre and expressiveness of my colorful foot coverings. This is a metaphor for my life. So the question is, can I marry the two sock drawers together? Can I add structure and gentle discipline to my creativity to build a life? I say “Yes I can.” This is my plan, and the path I am pursuing.

This publication verbally illustrates one person’s tie to hope and how it’s anchored her through storms.

The bible verse that I’ve claimed to represent my life goes like this; “The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it.” John 1:5 NLT.

If your life-light is dim right now, don’t beat yourself up about it. That’s the last thing you need. I wish you connection with my words as a friend and personal cheerleader. Ultimately breathing in the significance of your own story.

I’ll leave you with this take-away; Be gentle with yourself. For me, gentle, grace-filled self-discipline has been the map on this journey. Be kind to you, my friend, and thank you for joining me on this adventure.