I like having things in place and a place for all things. Also known as, a control freak over how well my file system is alphabetized, and which highlighter to use for which color-coded notebook, that's filed away in that bin, not that bin. So you could imagine my chagrin to discover that one of my precious camera lens caps had gone missing/ran away, done left a note to say "Peace out. I've moved on to greater and better things beyond being just being a mere cover lens stuffed away in a camera bag." My camera lens was now naked, people, and my system is now out of order! Somebody call a state of emergency!
I find that the funny thing about losing things, big or small, is that I tend to go through the same stages. The Panic McSpazzy phase where I do everything I can to try and find it, including throwing aside couch cushions, wiggling my fingers into that corner under the bookshelf that has yet to meet Mr. Dust Rag and Pledge...all this just to achieve feeling of peace that comes with knowing I have found the lens cap and all is well in my little world.
Then, if the Panic McSpazzy phase does not yield a recover of the lost item, then there's the blame game. It's because of this or that or him or her, that I lost that item, that relationship, that friendship, that spot in line, that last serving of honey walnut shrimp on the plate. (I blame it on my seafood-crazed sibling who takes advantage of the fact that I'm the more slow-moving eater at the dinnertable)
And finally, if the lost item isn't found, there's this weird grieving period. Wallowing in the feeling of straight loss.
The other night a friend of mine and I chatted about a mutual friend we had lost contact with and the hurt, sadness, and frustration that resulted because of this loss. And though it just sucks (for lack of a more mature word ), I like to think that as part of the whole "Im a big kid now" process, it's necessary to move into the stage of acceptance in order for Growth and Maturity to come around and hang out with you more often.
Oooooh. "Necessary to move into the stage of acceptance." That sounds so Dr. Phil, don't you think?
After a while, when Growth, Maturity, and I slowly become better friends, it's easier to let go, easier to accept loss, and easier to cherish with new appreciation what I still have despite that loss and what I've learned from it.
And oh, lens cap, thank you for your coverage and protection to my treasured lens. I will miss you terribly and hope you have, indeed, moved on to greater things.
