Some Saturdays, my brain decides to run its own little relay race. Bouncing from one thought to the next with no warning, no baton, and no concern for whether the topics “go together.” But I can always connect them in my head. My brain makes random connections all the time. At least, sometimes they seem random to other people. Somehow, they always make sense to me.
On this “Fun Day Saturday,” I thought I would give you a little glimpse into my convoluted thought processes.
A Memory Triggered from an Old Favorite
It started earlier this week when I rewatched Copycat, that 90s thriller where Sigourney Weaver plays Helen, a brilliant psychologist living with severe agoraphobia after a run-in with a notorious serial killer. There are moments when her anxiety spikes, and she steadies herself by listing the Presidents of the United States, in order. “George Washington, John Adams, Thomas Jefferson…,” her voice trembling but determined. It’s such a small detail. One I’ve probably overlooked a dozen times. But the other day it hit me because I recognized the grounding technique. It’s something I’ve learned to do recently to manage my own anxiety. To pull myself back into my body.
But something else struck me too. My brain immediately screamed, Oh! I remember doing that in high school.
An Old Trick My Brain Learned
It wasn’t a grounding technique back then. It was an extra credit assignment in my junior American History class. Learn the American presidents in order, from George Washington to Bill Clinton (who would have been the last president Helen recited too, given the year the movie came out). The teacher taught us a memorization trick, and I didn’t even care that it made me look like the history nerd I was.
The list wasn’t elegant or textbook‑proper. But it had its own cool shorthand rhythm. All you had to do was shorten the names, like this:
Wash‑Ad‑Jeff‑Mad‑Mo‑Ad‑Jack‑Van‑Har‑Ty‑Po‑Tay‑Fil‑Pi‑Buc‑Linc‑John‑Gra‑Hay‑Gar…
A string of clipped syllables that looks like nonsense until your brain clicks into the cadence. I learned it back then because it was an easy way to earn some extra points, and it never left. Even now, that abbreviated list sits at the back of my mind like a rope I could grab hold of if I needed to, although I might have a little trouble listing out the presidents after Clinton. I never shortened and chunked any of their names.
And, like Helen, I might start using it to ground myself during those times I find myself floating in the sea of panic. There’s something comforting about a sequence you learned young. Something ordered and predictable. Something that became part of you for the rest of your life.
The Book That Pleased My Brain
But that little mental presidential detour led me straight into thinking about the book I finished yesterday: A Founding Mother by Stephanie Dray and Laura Kamoie.
I didn’t expect this connection, but there it was. Because this novel about Abigail Adams is, in its own way, about grounding too. Abigail lived in a world that was constantly shifting, full of war, separation, political upheaval, and the birth of a nation. Her anchor wasn’t a list of presidents (though she was married to one and mother to another). Her grounding came through letters, intellect, faith, and sheer determination. She steadied herself — and her family — with her words.
Reading her story felt like stepping behind the curtain of American history into the rooms where women carried burdens no one wrote down. Abigail Adams wasn’t just the second First Lady. She was a strategist, a moral compass, and a partner in nation‑building. And she did it all while navigating loneliness, loss, and the relentless demands of early American life.
Maybe that’s the thread my brain was tugging on:
Memory → grounding → history → women who hold the world together while no one is looking.
Helen listing presidents. Me remembering my high‑school shorthand memorization trick. Abigail Adams writing letters that shaped a nation.
Different centuries and contexts, but all the same instinct. When the world tilts, you need to reach for something steady.
From where I’m sitting this Saturday, that’s enough of a connecting theme.
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