I’ve been both this week……and more than once.
Lost – for what to do with the ever present rain hanging about like a bully taunting us with its next onslaught, keeping us hemmed inside along with that musty smell which lingers throughout the house.
Found – solace at the end of the day, in the dredges of a bottle of wine, slumped on the couch with a brilliant book taking me to a far off place and time.
Lost – patience with twin toddlers persistent in their non-compliance with everything, everyone, everywhere, ahhhhhh!
Found – in the decadent cup of liquid hot chocolate and consoling conversation with a friend, who listens and laughs in all the right places.
Marbles lost and marbles found, again…eventually.
Lost – for what to write about, feeling inadequate, ill-equipped and time-poor at the end of a week.
Found – (albeit forcefully) in siting down to write this blog.
And that’s it, isn’t it?
We’re all a bit ‘lost’ during the course of any given day, week, month, even year but it’s the ‘found’ in often small, maybe seemingly insignificant ways, that allows us to wash away our disappointments, pick up our misplaced selves and return to some ‘centre’ and find perspective.
Not always as easy as that! Yes this is true.
Many things can be lost; items, people, meaning, beliefs, thoughts, opportunities, courage, time and it’s not always as simple as scrounging through a ‘lost and found’ box to retrieve these.
I remember we once lost a family pet, our cat Sammy. He was a wild thing from birth; skittish and cunning, he was a law unto himself. But we loved him, as only small children can.
My parents took great care to ensure he was comfortable during a two day car journey to a new home of ours. We were all reluctant to leave our old home. A place which was special and familiar. Sammy was no different in that regard.
Upon arrival, not 1 min after pulling up to park in our foreign driveway, Sammy took off. Scampered with the breeze, never to be seen again.
As small kids we were always hopeful and on the lookout for his return. Often times we imagined we had seen him flash by with his ghost-like white fur, darting about to slide under the storm water drain.
But he remained elusive and free. He’d found himself, even if we had lost him in the process.
I remember wishing I too could be like Sammy, in this new place of ours. I longed to wander off and be lost. I couldn’t have felt any more lost than I already was in such a strange, uncomfortable place.
It took us all some time to ‘find’ ourselves in that new place, I know. But we did, through small incremental efforts; a friend found, a secret hideaway discovered, a new addition to the family in the form of a puppy.
It’s that need to keep going, that drive to move forward, that’s innate within us.
“I got lost but look what I found” Irving Berlin (American composer)
To be lost at times is inevitable. We’re living life in all its ‘unpredictable-ness’. But the rhythm of being found again, in little bits, is as sure as the tide turning.
The trick is in reminding myself of this, the next time I lose my marbles.