The Invisible Strings That Connect Us
Jenny Gaynor, author and founder of Calm Education, teaches SEL tools to help kids, families, and teachers build confidence, connection, and calm. She makes these tools accessible for everyday life. Her approach gives adults simple ways to support children’s emotional well-being.
There are some things you can’t see, but you can feel them, like a hand reaching for yours when you’re nervous or a teacher who remembers your name. Maybe it is a song that instantly reminds you of someone or a child who still uses a phrase you said years ago. These are what I call invisible strings, and I’ve been thinking about them a lot lately.
This year, both my children left home to attend boarding school. I knew this day would come. I understood when they were born that they would grow up and eventually leave. But knowing something is coming doesn’t mean you’re prepared for how it feels.
There is now a physical distance between us. I don’t see them every morning. I don’t hear about their day from the backseat of the car. I can’t simply walk into their rooms and give them a hug when I know they’re having a hard day. Yet, somehow, I feel those invisible strings more than I ever have. I have come to realize that connection doesn’t disappear when proximity does.
The strings we create without realizing it
As parents, we spend so much time doing the everyday things, like making lunches, driving to practice, reading the same book for the hundredth time, sitting beside them when they’re upset, reminding them to take a breath, and saying, “You can do hard things.” At the time, so much of it can feel ordinary. But ordinary moments can become extraordinary memories.
Our children may not remember every conversation we had, but they remember how we made them feel. They remember that someone showed up. They remember the hug, the bedtime story, the silly joke, and the feeling that after a hard day, there was somewhere they could come back to.
These things create strings, and they travel with our children long after we’re no longer physically beside them.
Teachers leave strings, too
I think about this a lot as an educator. We don’t always know which moments will matter. A teacher might spend hours planning a lesson, only to discover that what a student remembers years later is a five-minute conversation they had together in the hallway.
Maybe the teacher noticed the student was quiet or told them they were good at something they didn’t think they were good at. Maybe a teacher gave a child another chance after a difficult morning or believed in them before they knew how to believe in themselves. We plant so many seeds as educators without knowing which ones will grow.
A child may not remember the worksheet. They probably won’t remember the exact lesson. But they might remember that when they walked into your classroom, they felt safe. They might remember that you saw them. These are invisible strings and connections worth creating.
Connection doesn’t require proximity
One of the things I’ve learned this year is that relationships can change shape without disappearing. My relationship with my children is changing. There is more independence, more space, more texting, and more FaceTime. There’s more “Did you eat?” and “How was your day?” from a few miles away.
I miss them, and I am incredibly proud of them. Both things can be true. That is something I teach children all the time about emotions. We don’t have to choose one feeling and get rid of the other. We can hold more than one thing at once.
Maybe connection works the same way. We can miss someone and still feel connected to them. We can let go and still love deeply. We can give someone space without letting go of the invisible string.
Some strings need repair
Of course, not every connection is easy. We all have relationships that have been stretched, tangled, or even broken.
As parents and educators, we’re going to lose our patience and say the wrong thing. We’re going to misunderstand each other. We will most likely all have big reactions.
Connection doesn’t mean perfection. It means repair. Sometimes the most important words are “I’m sorry” or “Can we try that again?” Repair teaches children the incredibly important lesson that a hard moment does not have to mean the end of a relationship. Sometimes we strengthen the string by coming back to it.
We don’t always know which strings will last
There are people from my own life who are still connected to me in ways they probably don’t realize. It could be a teacher who believed in me, a friend who showed up when I needed her, a colleague who encouraged me to take a risk, or someone who said the exact right thing at the exact right time. Some of these people may not even remember those moments. I do.
I think that’s the beauty of connection through our invisible strings. We don’t always know what our presence means to someone else. A smile, a kind word, a moment of patience, and a reminder that someone matters are all small things that travel much farther than we think.
Maybe that’s the work
As parents and educators, we put so much pressure on ourselves to get it right. We want to say the right thing, teach the right lesson, raise resilient kids, and make a difference. But maybe the work is simpler than that.
Maybe it is as simple as showing up, noticing, and listening. Maybe it is creating enough moments of safety and connection that a child begins to carry that feeling with them.
Eventually, our children will leave the classroom or the house. They will grow up, and we can’t always be there to hold their hands. The connection doesn’t have to disappear. The invisible strings go with them.
I think about this a lot these days as I watch my own children grow farther away from home. I miss them. I worry about them. I wonder if they know just how deeply they are loved. Then I remember they don’t have to be physically close for us to be connected.
Maybe that’s what we give the people we love the most: an invisible string that reminds them, wherever they go, that they are loved, connected, and never truly alone.
Read more from Jenny Gaynor
Jenny Gaynor, Social-Emotional Learning Coach & Founder
Jenny Gaynor is the author and founder of Calm Education. She teaches children, families, and teachers essential SEL (Social-Emotional Learning) skills. Her mission is to help others build confidence, resilience, and healthy connections. Jenny is a former educator with over 20 years of classroom experience. She holds certifications in both elementary and special education. Jenny also has training in yoga, meditation, and SEL facilitation. She lives in Barrington, Rhode Island, with her family and therapy cat, Tiller.
