The world is pretty tough these days. Every day has a new form of chaos and upheaval. Every day seems to bring with it less certainty and more unrest. – At least that’s how it feels for me a lot these past few years.
A few months ago, my social media feed decided I needed to see a how-to-fold-socks video. Like many of us, part of how I’ve dealt with the harshness of the world the past couple of years has been to spend less time on social media. I’m always amused by what content appears that seems totally unrelated to my main interests, friends, or organizations I already follow. For some reason, I clicked and watched this weird algorithm-generated sock-folding video.
Then I watched another.
And another.
And another.
OK, OK! I probably watched a dozen hours of socks and folding videos. The basic roll. Flip & tuck. Single fold. Military roll. Crisscross method. Square folds. File folder folds. Konmari-inspired folds. And, of course, there are different methods based on the size of the socks: No-show, ankle, quarter, low-cut, crew, mid-calf, over-the-calf, over-the-knee. Then there are other factors to consider, like thickness, type of material, grips or no grips, styles with labels or patterns, and so much more. Who knew there could be SO MANY VIDEOS about socks and so many variables!?
I started to experiment. I wanted to try these techniques out. Some methods were origami-level complicated. Some were simple. Some created unique shapes. Some were more practical than others. I was hooked.
What do socks possibly have anything to do with trauma, trans survivors, or anything else?
It turns out – for me – socks and trauma have a lot to do with each other.
As I dump out a freshly clean laundry basket and dig for my socks, I find a tremendous amount of calm comes over me. I can decide if I am going to fold them on the bed, at my desk, on a table, in the air, or anywhere else. I can decide if I want to listen to music or an audiobook, be in the quiet of the house, or have the TV on in the background. I can decide if I feel super detail-oriented and try to make them all look the same size, or just enjoy the physical sensations and outcome of neatly folded socks. It’s pretty incredible just how many choices there CAN be AND how calming it feels to do this very simple task.
Over the past few months, I’ve developed a deep awareness of the relationship between my simple actions (folding socks – and folding a bunch of other things, too!) and how I am processing the chaos of the world.
I can intentionally focus my attention on my senses, on what is internal to me, or what is directly external in my world:
- The softness/roughness of the material on my hands
- The texture and stretchiness
- The colors and nuances even between the same brands
- The contrast of the colors and textures against the surface I’m folding on
- How level each sock lies flat (or doesn’t)
- The sound of my hands smoothing out the threads
- The scent from the laundry soap
- The feel of my hands and arms and legs and neck as I move to make these simple folds
- The visuals of a row of tidy socks, in a pile, in a container, on my desk
For these moments, I can allow my brain the space to create simple beauty in small places. I see and touch these things every single day. So each day, I have an opportunity to experience the sensations of calm, of beauty, of ease, of creation, of simplicity. I can choose to have these moments, to notice them, to create them.
If I need more of these moments, I don’t need to wait until I’m doing laundry. I can unfold and refold socks – just one pair or all of them, whenever I need to find a minute to reset my nervous system.
These moments – and the long-lasting impact these very small actions make – are also some of the most cost-effective therapy ever! The process and results are adaptable, flexible, longer-lasting-than-might-be-expected, and repeatable.
Although folding socks doesn’t change the world, it changes me. It changes me so I can stay here in this world, so I can have moments of where my nervous system hums vs. spikes. It changes me so that when I am done folding, there is a possibility that I can change the world! Maybe it’s just my little corner of it.