Because bad taste is better than no taste at all.....

Sunday, July 30, 2017

#348: Lost

Somewhere a Sassafrass is getting a head start on fall.....

I lost my feelings long ago. It seemed a few weeks past I had started to find them again. I had started to feel, and I wasn't sure what I was feeling. But now they've faded again, from disuse. They have gone back to sleep, until such time as you choose to whistle them up again. It's been difficult to deal with having lost so much, and then got tempted to maybe regaining some of it again.

I am also missing some people in my life--an Aunt I lost track of died a couple of years ago, and a school chum has, seemingly, fallen off the face of the earth. I snooped around and found a semi-recent photo taken at some convention or other. She was smiling and, it is to be hoped, content. Obviously doing all right, and not needing anything, or anyone, from her old life. I wrote her a letter several months ago. I received neither a reply nor it returned. That was answer enough.

And then there is the lost time. I am losing track of time at an alarming rate; it seemed like only the other day Dent and I had decided a change would happen once the Megs finished school (Megs graduates next year--we made this decision nearly 4 years ago....)

I appear to be stronger, and more aware, and more in tune to myself. Yet I am also more lost than ever.....

A few weeks ago I lay out the old furniture blanket I keep always in the trunk of my car, and set the old umbrella on it. I stared up at the trees overhanging me, framing the blue sky. Summer is now 2/3 gone, and I have done little for myself. Still wanting to lean in the original direction, but getting mixed messages about doing so. Although I still have some time left, the deadline is rapidly approaching. Are you with me? Or are you going to continue to let me fumble by myself, lost as I am?

It is fear that holds me now--not fear of change, for that is inevitable--but the fear that, no matter which direction I go, it will be wrong. That there is no right path to take out of the woods. The breadcrumbs were all eaten a long time ago; and the stones I placed as markers were all washed away when the creek rose.

If you are out there, please find me.

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