Have
you ever been lost? I know in today’s world speaking of being lost is often the
metaphor of choice for trying to navigate our way through a complex culture. I
used this metaphor many times but never really appreciated its impact until once
when I was seriously, physically, lost.
We
thought we would take a walk through a park, Petroglyph Park, in Michigan’s
thumb area. The park at that time was a rough wilderness with overgrown paths
and unmarked trails. Woods were easier than fields. We found some objects
identifying the messages of elders long gone - a stone circle, rough hewn
images on rocks. No other visitors to the park came our way. At one point we
sat on the ground to rest, when my good man decided he had to use the outhouse about
15 minutes behind us.
I
said I would wait for him here at the convergence of the field with the woods.
He was gone a very long time. I knew we had somehow broken our memorized path
for reconnection. I inched my way in the direction of path he took consciously
trying to establish land marks. This was supposed to be just a little walk. We
brought nothing with us but our happy selves. No compass (though I’m not sure I
ever accomplished learning its use), no water, no tools.
I
began to move farther down the path calling to him. In just a few minutes I
increased my pace and my call, feeling for the first time – lost. I checked the
sun, mid afternoon. Calling his name loudly now, I wondered just how far the
range of my voice would reach. In the moments of silence I could hear car tires
humming on asphalt in a distance. I began to question myself about where we
were when we started. Calling again, louder still, but there was no response.
A thumping
of anxiety began to send adrenaline through me to alert the cells of impending danger.
Walking and calling, clapping, trying to make as much noise as I could, I wondered,
Why doesn't anyone hear me? What if I am taking the wrong path? I even began to
question our relationship (which I knew was stronger than this encroaching
fear), still the curious thoughts like little devils taunted me, What if . . .
When
we saw each other, we hugged, he anxiously asked why I didn't answer his calls,
we chattered about the feeling, the intense confusing feeling of actually being
lost. Now when I claim being lost such as in a jungle of techno-speak or financial percentages, I think of that summer afternoon, a weary
sun starting to set and I remember understanding the questioning and frustration of truly being lost.
Friends, I love sharing the experiences of life and hope you may encourage your circle of friends to consider reading A Homestead Decade - How Crunchy Granola Changed My Life, Amazon Kindle, (though it can be read on almost any digital device), cheap - $2.99.
Thanks for stopping by,
affectionately,
Helene
