Our Shared Humanity and The Little Thread

Sometimes when I open your orders and read your stories and your photographs pop up on the computer here in the studio I get the wind knocked out of me. I imagine that this is what happened when this story began unfolding for you, the one you wrote about in your order notes.

I imagine that when you started searching for a locket that would come with a photograph inside that you wanted to find one that would bring you some kind of comfort, whatever that could hopefully feel like. 

I bet you were hoping that it could be an easy process, since your energy is being consumed in navigating a world that you didn't expect to be living within. 

Or maybe you're in one of the times in life that are at the peak of a rollercoaster. It's all going well, so good. You're celebrating something, and you're hoping that the moment you want to mark within a locket is one that you can keep close for a lifetime. Or more. Pass it down to someone who can carry that moment beyond your life. 

I let my smile lines deepen with your joy. We hold that with a reverence and honor as much as we do your pain. 

There are no good orders, no bad orders. There are simply stories that have left a mark on your heart, and we let them leave a mark on ours too. 

In each box we ship out to the world we include The Little Thread, which is a tiny card with a thread tied to it and a note that reads:

"During a dark and painful period of my life, I tied a little thread around my wrist as a reminder to hang on, if only by a thread. It was a hopeful symbol that I would be ok, and that I'd eventually feel some ease, if I could just hand on. It helped, as symbolism often does. Whatever story is unfolding for you, hang on. We send you all our love from Minneapolis."

This dark and painful period of my life that I'm referencing refers to the time in my life when my son was two and my daughter was a newborn and I left my former career to leap into something new with my sister. I was so deep inside post-partum anxiety that I began to believe that my presence in my family was making their lives worse. I was wrong about that. But I also didn't even realize how unhealthy I was until I spoke to my midwife about it. My anxiety was OFF THE ACTUAL CHARTS on the little quiz thingy she made me take. I thought I was inside depression, but it was my nervous system that was dysregulated. 

I began therapy, tied a little thread around my wrist to remind myself to hang on, if only by a thread, and then each day I just took one step at a time. In hindsight I can see that I was treading my way to this space I currently exist inside where I spend time with your stories and your healing and your wounds and your joys and mark moments and people in and of your life with tiny little photographs that sit inside classic and modern lockets that you can keep close to your heart. 

This is what I was crawling toward in that dark and painful moment of my life. My intuition knew I'd get here, but my mind couldn't have imagined it. But here I am. 

I hope you arrive at the space you're crawling toward, too. I love you, from Minneapolis.