Anyone who knows me, knows that in the last two and a half years I got lost.
All the 21st century sages say that getting lost at least once in your life is a good thing. You know the old cliche- "get lost in order to get found..."
Therefore most people will say if getting lost is not on your bucket-list that it should be. Yet, for all the idealist advice so many of us live terrified of doing so. Like all the people with children in comforting marriages telling you, 'Live alone for a while - Spend time with yourself- enjoy yourself'...Really? How often are these same people faced with eating on a table with only a book to exchange with? Breakfast, lunch, dinner, day after day? I'd like to know if option and choice are ever considered. You see, when it came to getting lost - it was another one of those things...It crept up on me unwittingly. Even if I was faced with a life-altering action, moment, decision and choice, when I was PRESENT in that moment, I was far from fathoming the depths of cause and effect. Getting lost seems like the kind of thing we like to see other people do so we can live vicariously through them, gossip about it and stay perfectly cocooned in domestic comfort without ever getting our hands or souls dirty.
Well, I got lost. Am currently still a bit lost...
Unfortunately, I didn't get lost in space and time (something I think with all the GPS location technologies that exist would have been so much easier).
Nope, I got lost the messy way - the kind there's no road map in existence for. I got lost in another human being. And in turn, I lost myself. And on the way to losing myself, I lost the proverbial picket fence; the big house, the in-ground pool, the fireplaces, the chickens, the acreage, the husband. However, I found stuff too...just like when we were kids and our trip to the beach came equipped with special tools - that special sand colander you take along with your little plastic bucket and shovel. Watching all that mucky wet sand draining through the holes leaving you beautiful nuggets of polished beach glass. Nuggets unlike anything I have ever seen before - extraordinary novel experiences, blinding golden light.
So after much meandering in a purgatorial space of not recognizing anyone, thing or even myself - I am now on a mission to rise. Trust me, when you wake up in silence in a space you have no point of reference for, or history in, and people you thought were your most dear friends absent in a poof...crashing is easier than rising.
Now with time, I am understanding just a bit more of the abstraction that is my reflection than I ever have. I understand now there is no better anti-depressant than people, we are after all social animals no matter how much we rationalize ourselves away from our nature. And for me, one of the most dangerous acts I can commit is sequestering my soul from sharing with others. So without burdening you with anymore information than necessary, I'm going to start with my blog. For the record, it isn't about being found, or arriving, is it? It's more about helplessly and apologetically deconstructing, yet rising without apology, until the next time I fall. It is about the struggle and being strong enough to simply withstand and wake from it. It's about learning to be selfless for a while. It's a about learning to be happy in a place of vulnerable LOVE.