The word LOST has any number of meanings: adrift; mislaid; bewildered; gone astray; confused… Add your own to this list because that is what this blog is all about.
To reflect on I Lost—in all its manifestations—is unlikely since we most often attach the experience of loss to a missing bracelet or cell phone or car keys and the fact we are certain we bought milk at the grocery store or lost our temper or yelled at the driver who cut us off or… And, believe it or not, being late for work or an event or to misplace time is also a loss because there are no take backs on Mother Earth.
So I question: What is LOST and can it be FOUND? When first I thought of this blog I made a list of the happenings across our planet and as I did my tears gathered then overflowed. I would have loved to share my list with you and come off as some superpower voice telling you what already exists within each of us. It is an identical, yet unspoken energy for we who live at the grace of our Milky Way Galaxy. This energy is always conserved; meaning it cannot be created nor destroyed.
From our first cry or wail at our birth to the unknowing at our death, not one of us will escape I LOST because we are, after all, humankind. So I offer this respite: Use the forever energy we are given as a way to find your way when LOST.
Along the rivers of life is a universal yearning to flow with the tides that Mother Earth endowed to the Zambezi River—the fourth-longest in Africa and the largest flowing into the Indian Ocean from Africa. Maybe this will help: The Zambezi’s most celebrated feature: Victoria Falls (below).
Elephants walking in a channel of the Zambezi River, Zambia
Why choose the Zambezi for this blog? That’s easy: because it demonstrates how the animals and human cultures sustained by it, live together the ebb and flow that is the rhythm of life. Nature is a great storyteller of collaboration that nourishes our future.
Now, more than 7 billion of us are torn by disorder and uncertainty and bewilderment. Our world is changing and none know its outcome. Well, maybe trusting that when the rains come and the Zambezi overflows her banks and humankind and animal alike head to a higher ground, we too head there!
YOU might ask—I certainly would—why I leave an open-ended title in most of my blogs. It’s because I don’t know what is to come until I begin to write.
You see, writing is an art no less and no more than wonder or thought. All humankind FEELS their healing thoughts and they wonder at the mystery of thinking them—that is until others proclaim we should think differently—Like Them.
Did our thoughts then change? Throughout history that answer depended on the consequence placed on speaking for or against—Like Them.
My hope is that my sisters and brothers throughout our Earth held in time without end each healing thought and their wonder at the mystery of thinking it! For in this case: AND, THEN WE ARE.
BLOGGING: In my case it is the title of a blog that comes first out of what I think of as The Creative. And, it’s rare for me to offer a different narrator whose voice says…
“At the beginning of this cycle of time, long ago, the Great Spirit came down and He made an appearance and He gathered the peoples of this earth together and He said to the human beings: ‘I’m going to send you to four directions and over time I’m going to change you to four colors, but I’m going to give you some teachings and you will call these the Original Teachings and when you come back together with each other you will share these so that you can live and have peace on earth, and a great civilization will come about.’
“And he said: ‘During the cycle of time I’m going to give each of you two stone tablets. When I give you those stone tablets, don’t cast those upon the ground. If any of the brothers and sisters of the four directions and the four colors cast their tablets on the ground, not only, will human beings have a hard time, but almost the earth itself will die.’ ”
So, my Dear Readers, you may wish to counter my hypothesis “There Can Never Be a Yesterday” by trusting in the past. Yet, wasn’t it just a moment ago that what each of us experienced became our yesterday? Did you, in that moment, remember how it felt or tasted or what it taught?
Maybe we humankind, like the lyrics in the Beatles song “Yesterday” must believe in our days gone by.
And, YES, the past embraces where we’ve been and tomorrow holds the hope of where we’re going. But existence itself can never be more than this moment.
For example: At the time I post this blog MY moment will be in yesterday’s memory. Yours, however, will be in the moment you read it. See what I mean?
Since my previous blog was about Life Stories I decided to follow up with a few more thoughts I have on the subject of the story of our life. As my title says—not implies—each of us write our life story from beginning to end by every action we take; or don’t take.
LISTED are life story ingredients and—like making a salad—essential to humankind’s wakefulness as we each write Our Story: conviction; listening; trust; inklings; soul-related; good & evil; discernment; consistency; breath; voice… And, our heartfelt desires.
The hidden notes in a completed salad are in the dressing we savor as we take our first bite. A reminder of the final sacred ingredient: living in the moment.
The characters in my novel, “The Wedding Garden” (in process) tolerate and grace me with the arduous task of introducing their memories to a public stage. They did this freely and with intent; arriving in a group where I had to overcome a whole host of voices speaking at the same time. This felt, to me, like some life-force had finally freed them from their ether of silence. And, I knew, somewhere in my memory, it was their time to be heard.
Early this morning, this blog came to me as easily as the name: Rose Eva Thistle. She is the centerpiece memory in the novel—the glue needed to hold together the storyline. That mix together of the characters: like the idea of Six Degrees of Separation.
My experience of writing the memories of others (those of the past or the now) is said best by William Faulkner in Requiem for a Nun:“The past is never dead. It’s not even past.”
November 18, 2010 – Typically I know exactly what I’ll write when I begin my blog. But today; well I just don’t know what will reach my fingertips as they hit the letters on the keyboard. I guess mostly I’m down—not down-and-out, just down. I see our world, as I know it, crumble like a cookie that I begin to eat at its outside edges until I reach its core; that I consume without thought. The outside edges are what enticed me but it was the core that consumed me. And, I didn’t care how bad the cookie was for me; well until it was too late.
Having been fortunate enough to travel our country and countries around the world, I know at my core level that some things are innately wrong when it comes to the treatment of humanity by despots and one mankind to another. I didn’t learn this lesson in a book. I learned it when I looked in the humanness that lay in the eye of my fellow man.
I ask myself, ‘So Janet, are you down-and-out or just down?’ I really can’t answer that question because as I write my blog I realize I am deeply hurt by what I see and my tears blur the screen.