A prose and reflection

Lost

Lost is when you wake up one day, look around and wonder where all the years have so quickly run away to; and how you slept through it all.

Lost is when you walk around your house looking at every picture, place setting, and wall grouping; sliding you finger along each book spine reading the titles of every book in every shelf, and then come to the uncanny realization that there is not even the slightest evidence, in your own home, that you live there.

Lost is a lonely dessert valley in a seemingly alien planet.

Lost is when you sit on your front porch- rocking, looking out over your street; the houses around you, the sky; you inhale deeply- tasting the air, and arrive at some odd terms with yourself that you don’t recognize anything.

Lost is a home built in a strange country.

Lost is when you find yourself looking- staring, deeply into the bathroom mirror-gazing on the reflection; only to witness that a stranger is looking back, studying and wondering at you.

Lost is when you have left your home somewhere in the past, and cannot find your way back to it without loosing the things that matter to you here, in the present.

Lost is when you sit at a table with the one you love, gaze into their eyes and, through the course of dinner conversation, find that those eyes are as empty as their conversation which, you cannot remember a word of. When those who you have considered friends most of your life really know nothing at all about you.

Lost is when you recite a creed over and over again without understanding its meaning.

Lost is when you examine your life and purpose for living; you search your heart and measure your actions and become aware that you have nothing in which you are willing to die for, so all your reasons for living are vain.

Many people wake up every morning all over the world and find that they are lost. Am I lost? No. I used to be. Yet now, that Home has found me, I search to find out how to live again.