I was strolling in my beloved Mount Congreve Garden yesterday when I happened upon a couple who seemed enthralled with the place.
The man said to me: “Are you lost, by any chance?”
This apparently simple question cast me into ponderings about what it means to be lost.
#Lost in the beauty of nature
#Lost in love
#Lost in happiness
#Lost in physical or emotional pain
#Lost as a child ~ me outside the Cathedral in Mullingar one October Sunday morning when I was four and only in the town a month or so. A kindly man who had delivered vegetables to our house came over to me and asked: “Are you lost.” He knew where we lived and brought me home to Mother while poor Father was still racing around trying to find me!
#Lost in a book
#Lost to the workforce ~ either by choice or jettisoned.
#Lost on a journey ~ finding new places while frantically trying to turn in cul de sacks.
So, so many associations ~ and we aren’t talking about ‘losing’ here or are we: ‘Yes, I lost the tennis match,’ and the eternal wise response, ‘Put it down to experience!’
Being lost seems to me to be part of the very essence of life. I suggest that most of us are probably lost in a host of ways at any given time. Life is about being lost and found, just as the tide ebbs and flows.
It is only in being lost that we come to recognise being found. And being found is as double-edged and bittersweet as being lost.