Although the watch was found, I never lost the feeling that something was missing. For days, I kept feeling that sinking incompleteness and would check my wrist, only to discover that the was watch was back in place, a sort of Groundhog Day meets Prodigal Watch.
Then Thursday I lost my keys.
The languishing lostness continues. It would seem the Universe is bringing me lostness and iss intent on me finishing the process. I wish It had taken something less critical though. Maybe a hat?
Because this morning I am done with this journey. I don't care what all this lost-ing should mean - I just want my keys and my All Is Well back.
Last night I dreamt that my dad announced he was leaving my mom. I dreamt that I was the kind of daughter that said all the angry things I had to say about that. It was one of those dreams where everyone is really them, not just dreamed up versions of themselves so I have had to spend the morning reminding myself that it was just a dream.
Somehow, it all feels connected, like the Force is yelling at me in every way It knows and I just can't quite make out what It's saying. What?? WHAT??
If you can hear better than I can, please fill me in. Otherwise, do you know where my keys are?
2 comments:
You know that Mercury is in retrograde...
I lost my prayer beads last month. Then my purse. (Technically, it was stolen, but that's another story.) But I found a line from this poem stuck in my head, and have been thinking about it ever since, wondering if it makes me feel better or worse:
http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15212
One Art
by Elizabeth Bishop
The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.
I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.
I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.
--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.
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