I am back.
Or am I?...
Perhaps I am here for
the very first time,
Because “I” is a very
fickle thing.
Changing between the
now and the then,
and all of the in-betweens.
I am beginning to believe that life
is the process of losing and finding oneself continuously.
Lost and then found.
But it is not the same as the
losing and finding of more material things.
We all have lost our keys at some point.
I always seem to do it when I am in a hurry or when my patience has
already been thoroughly tested by other things.
I dump my purse. I rummage
through pockets. I scan the counter tops
and even check in the refrigerator…just in case. I search until I catch a glimpse of them and
with a leap in my heart I exclaim, “There they are!” and grab them before
dashing out of the door.
Lost and then found.
We take this for granted, you and
I. We take for granted upon finding our
keys that no further inspection is needed.
They are the same keys they have always been and the same keys they will
continue to be.
But what if they weren’t? What if we found our keys and they no longer
opened the same doors or started the same cars?
What if instead of finding all of our keys intact on their ring we could
only find one key at a time hidden in a million different places? Would we still count the keys as being found
if time had changed them from their original design?
Lost and then…found??
These are the questions I ask when
I see an old picture of myself. I could
just as easily be looking at someone else, but I like to hold the photo and
remember how this girl felt. I try to
put myself in her shoes only knowing what she knew and enjoying the things she enjoyed. I can remember, but I also must acknowledge,
as I put the photo away, that I am not her any longer.
I have changed from one year to the
next. Through one event to another. We all have.
My biggest change has occurred since cancer, but certainly we all have
those big life events that change everything we once knew. Even if we don’t, we have changed more slowly
over the passing of time, but have changed all the same.
It
still disarms me though. I think of the
girl who was lost. I miss so many
aspects of who she was at times. Some of
them are physical, but most of them were based in an innocence of thought. Every once in a while I will see a small part
of her, but it is more of a shadow than a presence. I lost her, and while I am finding myself, I
do not believe she will be found in the process.
Lost and then never found, but
always finding.
If that makes any sense.
This new self I am finding promises
to be so much more than my old self was. This new self is back…or here…or is
coming and I am okay in knowing one day she may be lost too, but that is why we
are here. To adapt…To change…To lose…To
find…And to hope the process creates something beautiful enough to make it all
worth it in the end.
