The Lost And The Found
I’m at the Lost & Found for a while, and will return at some later date when I can reclaim myself. Anyway, that’s the status for this week. I’m not frightened, nor are there reasons to be. This isn’t a place of regret, though I am uncomfortable at times. I’m comfortable with that.
Mine is a spot where old photographs, current obligations, and possibilities going forward fill me with contentment and restlessness simultaneously. It’s all working so well and yet I feel smothered. How can so much good fortune include doubt? I can let it all go, laugh about it, and still be here when it returns. It’s a cycle I’m used to, being both lost and found at the same time.
I don’t live with melancholy, or second guess the path I’m on. The doubts have become part of my routine. And while they may have once come less often, I accept them as a gift from this life I have. Each dark spot presents a chance to find the curtains, pull them back, and see what’s out there beyond what I have now.
There’s only so much room where things can fit. When I do land on other spots, I’ll give up those that have worked so well and for so long. Find some, lose some. The unknown is not something I know well. But as doubts arrive, and calendars get replaced, I’ll look forward to change and be ready for places where I’ll be comfortable being uncomfortable again.
I have this snapshot I look at often and it’s called ‘my life’. With no formal training, I stand back to criticize it, to admire it, to assign a value to it, and to wonder why it changes without a hall pass signed by me. Lost in the background are the half-tones that make up the days like these. And when I stand further back, I find the beautiful colors they all turn into.
