On Being Lost

Have you ever felt like you've lost something important? Not your keys, or your wallet. Not even a work of art you've been slaving over for years. I mean something important: Something inside of you.

Some days, I feel like I've lost bits and pieces of myself somewhere along the way. I wish I could follow the crumbs I've been losing and trace my path back to where I once was. Back to some place where, even if I didn't know who I was, then, at the least, I could feel like myself.

I know it's not uncommon to be untrue to oneself at times. We say things and do things that don't match up to the types of people we envision ourselves being. But I think I've surpassed this. I feel unrecognizable to myself much of the time. I don't know where I'm headed, and, perhaps worse, I don't know why I'm headed there. If I could summon up a version of myself from many years ago, I'm not sure he would approve of my current situation and/or condition. I suspect he would lecture me about the folly of losing one's way. He would likely demand reparations.

If he were here, then I'd be able to see where I went astray. Then I could draw a straight line from me to him and guide myself back. That line would often intersect the route that I took to get here, which, plotted, would probably look like a tangled ball of yarn. A route whose heading no one could guess.

But I doubt going back is an option. And unravelling my route to determine where I'm headed seems equally improbable. Still, I'll have to figure this out, because one thing that I do know is that staying lost indefinitely isn't what I want. There is no meaning in being lost.

 

Of Shunning Men And Women

Of 'shunning men and women', -- they talk of hallowed things, aloud, and embarrass my dog.

Emily Dickinson

Amen, sister.

 

Dear Self-Deluded

You think the world is neat and tidy, that human nature is plain and clear. You believe what people say; you believe that they are what they claim to be, and that what they let you see is truly who they are. You think that, for the most part, people are consistent, that they're not confused and that they, at least, know who they are. You believe that, in general, people are honest and safe. You believe that intentions are usually pure, innocent and harmless. You believe that lies and hidden agendas are far from the norm. You don't see the ugliness that exists right in front of your eyes, and, therefore, you don't believe it's there.

Sometimes, I wish I could live in your pleasant world; other times, I briefly visit it and dream about staying. But then the vacation ends, and its relegated to that drawer in my filing cabinet where I store all of the childhood ideals that I'm reluctant to shred.

And then I return to a world where the action behind the scenes is more real than the stuff we actually see. It's the place where the unsaid and the unacknowledged reign, where what you don't know may be better left that way. There's so much "wisdom" out there about how to deal with such a world, and, yet, I can't help but think sometimes that dealing with such a world at all is the same as giving it my silent approval.

I don't know whether to protect you from this world or to show it to you, thus shattering your illusions and destroying what you see. Because, really, what I'm leaning towards is somehow immigrating to your world and forgetting all about my own.

 

While We Breathe, We Hope

For the past two years, while following the election process, there has been one constant on my mind: to know all the candidates well enough to be able to see who was most thoughtful. The biggest factor for me was this: to have someone running this country who was able to act wisely, who was strong enough to question the directions others would push him towards, and smart enough to make independent decisions not based on personal beliefs but on the basic principles of freedom. I've heard it said now and then throughout the race that candidates were sometimes preferred based on how relatable they were, how much they seemed to be in tune with us, or how similar they were to us. I can't understand that. Personally, I don't want someone running this country who's like me. I want someone running this country who's better than me. And by better, I mean wiser, more careful, more purposeful, more ambitious, more sturdy. Someone who is able to maintain a healthy balance between the freedoms we deserve and the security we need. Even when I'm hiring someone at work, I want someone who knows things that I don't, someone who can succeed where I struggle. What I don't want is a mere chum whom I can admire for impractical reasons. And this just for a co-worker. For a president, my demands are far higher. I don't think it's acceptable to settle for the mediocre. We've done that too often in the past, and it makes me wonder if we really take our country seriously. I not only want someone with a wonderful attitude, but also someone whom I can trust to govern me, not because he's brave and protective and sincere, but because he has demonstrated his respect for knowledge, for learning, and for understanding. If he's going to make decisions for me, decisions that will effect my life, I want to make sure it's not only his intentions that are good. I not only want him to be well-informed, but wise and able enough to investigate all of the options, to weigh them, not flippantly but deliberately.

In other words, I have high hopes and expectations for the leader of our country. And that's as it should be. Such a role isn't to be taken lightly.

Now that the election is over, I look forward to seeing some good plans put into place. I feel like the promise in this country has been on hold for quite a while, and now I'm anticipating finally seeing some progress. And, maybe, if we're lucky, something that we can truly be proud of.