What are those strings that jiggle us to and fro?
That great howling winter wind, rattles the windows, threatens the bare trees, and makes the pine trees thrash and rumble. This is a time to feed another log into the fire, and then pull the blanket over your head. A time to shield yourself from the destructive elements - as any creature should.
But we are tethered by strings which jiggle us to and fro. We aren't free to follow our instincts for self-preservation. We are bonded and bound to the wishes of others, who command us to shed our warm blanket of safety. We are summoned to serve the chain of command of the committed-to-the-committed; to some distant and unfriendly entity, not unlike the roaring winter wind, which aims to sap our life away.
Arise boy! The string has wiggled its way into your warm blanket and bound you up, and is jiggling you toward the cold!
What kind of man would you have to be, to brace your jaw, and to take your pocket knife and cut that string?