I’ve got a clothesline.
Yes, amidst all the high tech clutter of my life, I now dry some of my clothes the old-fashioned way.
Watching my things sway in the breeze brings back the sunny summers of my childhood, watching my mother and grandmother reach up to hang clothes on the line in our back yard. Their smooth motions up, and then down for another wet article to hang marked the rhythm of summer. The snow would fall from grey skies all too soon, but in those summer moments there were nothing but sunshine and warm breezes.
The first time I affixed wet clothes to the line last week the wooden clothespins in my fingers were familiar and comforting. Almost atavistic.
In a world where technology sometimes seems to have run amok, being grounded in something old-fashioned feels good. Soothing, even.
You might say that this blog is a sort of mental clothesline for me. A place where I hang my thoughts out to dry.
It might seem like I put it all out there all the time. But no. I edit, asking myself how much I’m really willing for others to see. Everything I post is thought through, purposefully. (Can’t help it– 30 years managing client reputations.)
Usually, though, I keep an open heart and hope that others have one when they read what I write. When they consider me.
And if they don’t?
(only kidding…couldn’t resist)