The Case of the Missing Socks

I posted a meme recently about how we sweat the small things in life sometimes. In response to the post, this is not for those of your who’ve conquered this malady, because it is almost an illness. 

The meme contained a picture of mixed matched socks. I made mention in my post that I would always get on my girls about their socks rarely matching. This small thing used to drive me absolutely nuts, in all honesty. Made my teeth itch. My oldest granddaughter would tell me, well they’re the same color” as if mattered. 

Lately, my very own socks have been missing in action. Sometimes I carefully pin them together when washing, but as of late, I have not. So now they’re disappearing. I looked in the lint trap in my dryer, no dice. I retraced my steps for the escapee from the basket. Nope. Just pouf! Gone. Displaced to the place they go, wherever the heck that is!

Then I thought about it. Missing socks for me personally is a metaphor. As I mentioned a while back, I would pin mine together. To keep them together. So that this would not disturb my peace. I’m far from a neat freak, but I do like a certain order. Missing socks breaks that order. I no longer have control of my socks. Therefore, socks have joined the ranks of things I can no longer control. And that irritates me.

We all like some semblance of control. We control what we eat, drink, wear, view on tv, just about everything. But in actuality we control very little. We operate under the delusion we’re running things. WE ARE NOT! 

I understand, before the religious get at me that we control a very minute portion of our world, and I thank God He’s in control and not me. But the case of the missing socks really brought it home for me. We can’t even control our freaking socks y’all! Control! It comes down to control. Janet Jackson’s jam was a big ol lie! She wasn’t running anything! She had all the young women when they left the nest thinking they were running stuff. Hah! 

My socks were my last stand of control, and they miraculously take flight. So even though I’ve always known God was running things, for us who lean towards being worry warts, and I know I’m not the only one, forget about it. 

Wrapping this up in a neat little bow, in my humble, control is synonymous with worry. We worry about that which we cannot control. Many of us don't care we can't control it, we'll worry despite that.

When issues arise, and we can't do anything about it, we have a tendency to worry, if only for a brief moment. If it’s out of our control, many of us pray and pick it right back up, when we’re supposed to leave it and let it go. Control-worry. Worry-control! STOP IT! 

Just go buy some more socks,

The Happiest of New Years to you, one and all.

Ninakupenda 

Kupendana