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Lost. Lost in conversation? Lost in translation? Lost on Everest? Paradise lost? What happens when one is unsure. Imagine that!
And who am I if I lose my way, lose my job, lose my fortune, lose my family, lose my health? What if parts of my body are gone? Gone—gone with the wind and yet, “I” “remains. Lost is lost, the “I” remains—until it too is lost.
Consider the following passage from P.J. Reece’s Blog about the death of Dr. Livingston in Africa.
“Incredulous, I see that he has mobilized himself off his deathbed to a kneeling position beside his cot. I suppose he’s praying but look again—his palms are open upward. He’s not begging for anything, no, he’s offering. Offering what? What’s he got left?”
Perhaps Dr. Livingston was offering the “I” of his personality to his creator. That is what he had left.
When I consider the word “lost,” it seems to me that everything has an opposite involved with it, the old theory of the double edged sword. Ironically, everything about this world of “real” may be unreal while what is unreal may be real. Perhaps the ultimate “Portal,” is the loss of personality in the becoming.
Being lost lets that happen, “becoming” I mean.  How freeing not to have to defend but instead to be open.
Oh well, I’m lost now what to do?
Continue on-see what is new?
Or retrace my steps, get back to where
I left the trail on a whim and dare.
Breathe deep of air so fresh and clean
Look for the tell-tale mossy green
Upon the trees and boulder’s side
Facing north.
Secrets confide
And I listen
When I’m lost
I notice what’s the time of day
And where sunshine and shadows lay
To find where West or East may be
And chart the way out for me
Or follow along the rivers course
Discover roads or scout the source
Excited by deciphering clues
Finding them within the views.
And I see them
When I’m lost
I taste the berries tart and sweet
Pine needles soft beneathe my feet
How good to be out in the wild
Alive, engaged and beguiled
With delicious fear dancing around
Each flash, each gust, each echoed sound.
My mind soars like the birds above
Open, seeking, and in love
With the joy
Of being lost.

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