Most people’s lives are filled with loss. As we shuffle through this mortal coil, we constantly misplace things. Some of these things are corporeal, like car keys, others are ethereal . I say ethereal because they deal with things that are part of us. Things that are part of our very essence.
Like most folks I have lost my fair share of things, both corporeal and ethereal. As people we lose: loved ones, prized possessions and parts of us. I have lost all these things. Some I miss. Others I have never spared a single thought on apart from the initial befuddlement at losing the item.
I am focusing on the ethereal things we lose.
I am pretty sure we all remember losing our innocence. It is generally a traumatic event, one that stays in our memory for years. The memory stays with us long after we’ve lost it. Like a sour after-taste with a slightly bitter edge to it. Some people can forget the trauma, but only in their concious mind. Subconsciously it lives on, dancing in our dreams and flitting through our day-dreams, like a noxious fairy.
Sometimes we lose our self-confidence. This can happen at the same time as the loss of innocence. These two things are not always as traumatic as each other, but both events change you. When you’ve lost both these “essences” you can still live your life. You just have to make allowances. You have to realize that the innocence can never be regained. The self confidence can with a lot of hard work and determination…and luck.
The other thing we can lose is our way. Our purpose in life. In other words, our goal in life. We are all born with certain innate talents and skills that make us unique as a person. When we are young, it seems crystal clear to us that we should use these talents and skills to make our way forward in life. But life is a series of road-blocks and compromises. Sometimes in avoiding the road-blocks and enduring the compromises we get lost.
I can’t remember when I lost my way. I also can’t really remember when I lost confidence in my skill and talents. I do know that both occurred about the same time.
Years ago, when I still had an agent, I wound up losing him. At the time, it seemed the most devastating thing in the world. I felt that I had lost the will to live. I want to tell you friends and neighbours it was a close thing. I decided that living was the more important thing to do. I had a family and I wanted to be there for them.
My belief in myself, my self confidence, also went the way of my agent. For the first time in my life, I felt that the creative essence that made me who I was “had left the building.”
Now I am slowly finding my “lost” self confidence. I’m also discovering lost skills and talents that I thought were gone forever. All is not lost. It was just misplaced and now I am earnestly trying to find my way in life again.
So take heart, just because you’ve lost something doesn’t mean it is gone forever. You might just find it again. Unless, of course, it is the lost innocence thing. But if you find yours could you keep an eye out for mine as well.
- When You’ve Lost Something Huge . . . (heartdreamsfromgod.com)
- On Innocence Lost (asolitaryramble.wordpress.com)
- oh shit i know i left it around here somewhere (eyeofthestorm.blogs.com)
- How Trauma Leads to Depression (everydayhealth.com)
- Confidence is all in how you define it. (ienjoyyourfacialhair.wordpress.com)
Pain changes our lives. It affects how we think, how we feel, and how we move. It is also a part of everyday life. Pain comes in different categories. There is emotional pain, mental pain and physical pain.
Emotional pain can be just as memorable, as can mental pain. Everyone can, I am sure, remember the pain experienced from a failed relationship. Each type of pain can consume our lives, if we let it. I can live with emotional pain. It’s physical pain that I detest.
Bottom line? Pain hurts. But more importantly, it impedes us. It slows us down. I am, at the moment, shuffling about like a ninety year old in search of a walking frame. It is frustrating and…well…painful. It is also to a degree, embarrassing.
When I go to the shop for my “bits and bobs” I know I look like a decrepit old fart. I keep waiting for a boy scout to offer me a helping hand as I cross the road.
More importantly, pain is intrusive. It has taken me three days to write this blog. Why? Because I wrenched my back and knee at work. Not only has this injury kept me off work for at least a week, but, it has kept me from pursuing my passions.
So I keep taking the medication and wait impatiently for the pain to subside enough for me to go about my life normally. So if, as my dad said, pain reminds us that we are alive?
I am full of life right now.
- Social Pain, Physical Pain, and the Brain (psychologytoday.com)
- Managing Invisalign Pain (topdentists.com)
- Physical Therapy for Pain Management (everydayhealth.com)
- Why Do We Feel Pain? (everydayhealth.com)
- Eight Things I Learned from Pain. (elephantjournal.com)
- Pain, thoughts, and emotions (harmony2world.com)
- Emotions ‘play part’ in chronic pain (bigpondnews.com)
Years ago it was a different matter.
I remember going out and picking wild flowers for my first wife. She found the gesture romantic and was impressed that I’d gone to the effort of actually picking the flowers. The truth behind my motive was simpler and more down to earth. We were very broke. I mean one step from destitute. Flowers were expensive even back then. Especially roses.
My first marriage never really got out of the “destitute” phase and when it ended, I think we both started to make more in the way of money. Odd.
My second marriage faired little better. My second wife was of the opinion that it was silly and sort of stupid to pick one day out of the year to show how much I loved her. After several years of this (to me) confusing attitude I began to agree. Sic transit wifey number 2.
I have had relationships with other girls and women over the years but I can’t really remember celebrating this holiday with anyone else.
So much for romance and love.
I do have one fond memory of this day though and it has nothing to do with romance.
When my brother and I were little, our father would come home every Valentine’s Day with three boxes of chocolate and three Valentine’s Day cards. This busy man, who ran his own building business and got up before the sun every morning, who never finished until after the sun had gone down, who did everything on the job that he expected his men to do,always took the time to get the chocolates and the cards for Mom and us.
Oh Mom’s box of chocolate was much bigger, but that didn’t matter because we would get to help her eat them anyway. The card for Momwas always funny, as was ours. Mom’s of course was romantically funny. I still don’t know how he found the time.
But the thing that makes this memory so special, so important, and so impressive was this: This busy man who took the time to do this for his wife and kids, did so on his own birthday.
So when I call my Dad later this evening for his ‘Happy Birthday’ call, I’ll remind him about how much this gesture meant to me. A gesture that he unfailingly made every year on his own special day. Only stopping when we boys got too old for it.
So I may not be an expert on romance but if what my Dad did for his own family isn’t a great example of love. I don’t know what is.
Happy Birthday Dad