“Where Do They Go?”

Do you remember the magician’s trick where he puts things into a tall black hat, waves a magic wand, and turns it upside down only to find it empty? Where do all of those scarves and trinkets go?

If you ever figure it out, please let me know because I’ve found that my black purse has become my “magic hat”. Every day I put in grocery lists, coupons, receipts, to do’s…and when I reach in to retrieve them, they have magically disappeared. Though I spend a lot of time trying to find them, I rarely ever do, or else they show up mangled or torn – like they’ve been through the ringer (and maybe they have) – sometime later.

A friend Jessie suggested that they go to that empty space where single socks go. (Have you noticed that you never lose a pair of socks or earrings, it’s always just one?)

Or perhaps things go into the BLACK HOLE. If so, where do they end up? Do they ever return? And if not, who’s using them? Is someone walking around in a different universe with one black sock and a red one?

The problem is the inordinate amount of stress that losing these things creates. I can spend hours looking for lost items, determined to prove that I am more organized than I seem. Things have a much better chance of showing up when I let go of the obsession with finding them. Just recently I looked for my check book for two weeks, finally giving up. And then a few days later, while frantically looking for something else I’d lost, there it was neatly tucked away in my computer carrying case.

I’d like to think that the solution is to do away with lists altogether and just put them in my memory bank. But that’s even worse than the purse. I may remember things in the middle of the night while I’m tossing and turning, but more than likely they disappear like the scarves in the magician’s hat – only I haven’t figured out how to manifest them!

I spend valuable time trying to figure out where they go and realize that it’s not that important after all. A big part of the angst is the attachment that I have to not only the things I’ve lost but to what that means. Am I losing more than socks? Am I fearful that I’m losing more important things in my life…my memory, my youth, my pride in the brain power I used to have?

My friend, Francesco, invites me to consider, “How many times do I trade precious moments of my life for things that have little or no value? When I lose people I learn how to appreciate life and other people more, but losing things is insignificant in the big scheme of things. Besides, isn’t life an ongoing process of letting go until the final day, when there is nothing else to hang on to?”

I realize I do have many things in my life that are valuable and never lost: loving moments with friends and family, warm smiles, hugs, the knowledge that I can make a difference at any age or at any time, peace of mind, a good sense of humor, and the ability to laugh at myself. And so, I don’t worry about those missing notes nearly as much…I laughingly toss them in my purse, knowing that they will likely disappear soon.

But if you ever find an extra sock in your laundry, please send it home!

What are the things that keep you from enjoying the present moment?
How do you bring yourself back to a place of appreciation for what is truly valuable?