The Tale of the Lost Wind

Okay, dear reader, get ready. I don’t know where I’m going with this, but I’m starting with the word “lost.”

Lost to me is a word that embodies several things. It embodies hopelessness and loneliness. It embodies uncertainty. It embodies adventure. It speaks to me of triumph. It reminds me that what we find isn’t always what we were looking for, but sometimes what we want isn’t what we were looking for either.

I get lost. This can be an expensive hobby, depending on the method and duration. When I was young and careless, I often drove my car in random directions for a while until I wasn’t sure where I was going, just that the sun was setting in the west. Then I would drive until I found myself in someplace familiar again. I sometimes had to call for help from the native population, but in general, I couldn’t help but feel a rush as I realized that I had no idea where I was and it was possible that I might end up driving forever but never able to find my way back. I always ended up home, though. Otherwise I wouldn’t be writing this rather random composition here and now. There’s something so free about being unable to get somewhere you didn’t want to be, though. Someone can call you wondering why you aren’t showing up, but you can’t help it; you don’t know how to get there from here. Usually no one notices you’ve been lost though.

I generally get lost alone though. This is good for some reasons; other people sometimes freak out because they hate being lost. Sometimes they pull out their GPS, which instantly reassures them that they can get back within a set number of minutes as long as they don’t take any of the tantalizing side roads. Sometimes they even fall asleep, which is about the most dampening thing one can do while on a high-adrenaline adventure. But other times, getting lost with someone else means stopping for a photo op, having someone to open your root beer while you’re driving, or having an echo of affirmation when you spot something amazing. When I’m alone, it’s just me driving, sometimes talking to myself, but overall, just excitedly thinking about the next corner I might come to.

When I get lost walking, though, I prefer to be alone. It’s probably not safe to do that, but I honestly don’t care. Walking is an activity I use to enthrall myself with the realness of everything outside myself. The air around me, the earth beneath me, and the many colorful blotches of whatever scenery is slowly drifting past as my feet tap along to a swaying rhythm. I lose myself to sensual experiencing. It’s the only time I can avoid thinking and just feel for a few minutes. My emotions become still and it’s just physical sensations surrounding me, breathing through me, merging with me. Then I become tired, and I return breathless, not because of exertion, but because all my breath was stolen away as it collapsed into the realness of existence.

I stand on a hilltop with the sun caressing my face as the wind picks up my soul and carries it away as I breathe. Then there’s nothing but me and the wind.

Ah! This is so much better than the other kinds of lost I have felt. I have felt lost and confused in a world where I don’t belong. I have felt lost as I’ve been rejected and had no place else to go. I have felt lost as I realized that I had no one to call. I have felt lost as I’ve discovered that there are only a few people who really understand me or want to. I have felt lost as I look at my options and realize that the only places left to go are on paths that I must not walk upon. Feeling lost isn’t always a euphoric experience. There’s a huge difference between being physically lost (not knowing your geographical location or how to get to where you intended to be) and any other kind of lost. It’s not so bad if you don’t know that you’re lost though.

People come along from time to time to inform you that you’re lost. They want you to do something to find your way out of the darkness of whatever ignorance you’ve stumbled into. It’s very important to them for some reason. It’s rather jarring to discover that not only have you been lost, but you must now perform a dramatic transformation from your comfortable life to a perspective that makes what you were doing before look bad. ~sigh~ Being lost in the dark and not knowing it is one thing; being lost in the dark and not caring is another thing entirely. But it takes effort to stop being lost. I don’t know if we always take this into consideration, but finding your way out of a lost place is hard, takes a lot of creativity, problem solving skills, and determination.

Usually I can work up these feelings to get myself un-lost if I’ve driven my car to a random location no one has heard of, or if my feet take me to a crazy downtown alleyway. Creativity, problem solving skills, and determination are not always as readily available in social situations, emotional crises, mental uncertainties, or even spiritual confusion. You can’t just look up and know that the sun always sets in the west.