SmallTalk #19 - Not disposable
What's something you could never throw away?
Time to take out the trash
A lot of things are sent away or replaced to make room for growth. From toys to clothes, from fears to woes, the price of growth is giving up things that used to make you you.
But not all the time
There are some things in life that people are unwilling to part with, even when given the perfect opportunity to throw it away. Retaining these things often don’t stagnate our growth, but instead support and guide it, like a trellis to a flowering vine.
This week we want to hear all about something that you could never give up or throw away. We want to know it’s significance to you, how you came across it, and where it lies in your heart now (or in real life!). This special little something might look like…
a memory
a piece of clothing
a joke
a relationship
an activity
SmallTalk is here for you! This is your space to build relationships, share your thoughts, and grow together. A few reminders to help you get the most out of this space:
Sharing is caring! Unless otherwise stated, you are always welcome to include a link to a post—by you or someone you admire—to help others find great resources or information. Whether you wrote it or love it, we want to see it!
Leave a note. Original comments to the thread can also be shared as a note if you click on the little box at the lower left.
Make new friends. This is a place where beautiful collaborations are born. Don’t be afraid to ask questions, celebrate each others’ wins, and reach out to people you’d like to collaborate with. We’re all supporting each other here.
I inherited a corded drill from my grandfather when he died many years ago. He had an incredible collection of tools, and he and I made memories together using that very drill when I was a kid. I used it myself once I was an adult, and it was my trusty drill for many projects, until... the cord frayed and became unsafe. I thought about rewiring it, but then a friend offered to remake the drill into a piece of garage art for me, which still hangs proudly above my other tools. So now I get to keep it forever.
My gram bought my Mom a Jill Rushton Doll in the 1960s from a Sears catalog. She was $3.99. Famously, she was ripped in half by Mom and her sister in a vicious sibling fight; Gram had to sew her up a new body.
Jill was Mom's best friend, and when Mom gave her to me when I was 6, I was determined she'd be mine, too. I took her American Doll parties where she was side-eyed severely, but as an autistic non-Mormon kid in an all-Mormon community, let's be honest, so was I.
When I was in high school, my mother (who doesn't not know how to sew) carefully sewed Jill a whole new durable body that's lasted almost 25 years. Last year, my sister (who does know how to sew), made her a brand new dress.
There's three generations of love from the most important women in my family in Jill. She is absolutely the first thing I'd grab in a fire (as I've found out in real life thanks to my pyro neighbors.)