I wonder if people are like socks, all waiting patiently in a massive laundry basket we call Earth for some cosmic Sock Sorter to pair us with our perfectly-matched mates. For each sock there is only one match, and thus the divine Laundry Folder presiding over us all provides a completion to the coupling to the best of his or her ability. Somtimes, one of the pair gets lost in the wash, and it may take the Laundry Folder some time to locate it, and pair it with its mate. Sometimes the sock is lost forever.. Increasingly often, the socks are mismatched, and thus the set is never completed.
Of course, I recognise that this idea is ridiculous. However, it's a considerably less romantic but more modern interpretation of Plato's theory, that a whole sphere splits in half, and each half becomes the soul of a human being. We supposedly spend our whole lives searching for the other half of this whole, in another person.
And this is what runs through my mind as I frantically search for socks to pack away. I'm off tomorrow! I'll probably post later today, in fact. But we shall see.
socks
