Posts Tagged With: finding things

Day 2801: Tell about something beautiful

I want to tell about something beautiful that happened yesterday, when I went to a doctor’s appointment at one Boston hospital and then went to another Boston hospital for the first time since February to retrieve some beautiful items from my office and to see some beautiful co-workers.   The main beautiful item I wanted to retrieve from my office was a collection of beautiful questions a beautiful person had put together for my Coping and Healing groups. After I got back to my beautiful home, I realized that the beautiful bag I had placed my beautiful items in had a big, beautiful hole in it, and that beautiful  collection of questions was gone.

Then, I had a beautiful decision to make: should I take up more time during my beautiful vacation to look for those beautiful questions or just beautifully accept that my time with them was over?

I called the beautiful Lost and Found department of the big beautiful hospital, remembering that I had lost several beautiful items over the years (including my favorite beautiful red jacket) that had never been found.  I struggled to come up with a beautiful description of the lost item: “It’s a collection of small rectangles with questions on them, held together with a silver ring.”  The beautiful person on the phone said, “Wait a minute” and then returned with this answer, “Nothing like that has been turned in.” I asked, “Should I call again tomorrow?” and the beautiful person said, “Sure.”

Then, I spent more beautiful minutes trying to decide what to do next.  I really didn’t want to get back into my beautiful car and drive in lots of beautiful traffic to retrace my steps.  My beautiful husband could tell that I was very sad that I had lost those beautiful questions.  He said, “Maybe it will turn up.”  I told my beautiful son, who was ready to go on a beautiful walk with me, “I’m going back to try to find what I lost.”

When I got into my beautiful car, I realized that my beautiful Scream mask was also missing. I had put that beautiful mask in the beautiful bag with the big beautiful hole when beautiful people at the beautiful hospitals had told me I needed to wear the beautiful masks they were providing to their beautiful patients to keep them beautifully safe during this very unbeautiful pandemic.

When I parked my beautiful yellow car in the same beautiful place near a beautiful church in beautiful Brookline, Massachusetts, I saw my beautiful Scream mask on the ground, almost immediately.  Then, I had beautiful hopes that I would find my beautiful collection of beautiful questions.

I retraced my steps with beautiful accuracy, looking everywhere for the collection of beautiful questions.  I went back to the beautiful hospital where I work, returned to my beautiful office, took more beautiful photos, retrieved more beautiful items from my office, and met more beautiful co-workers. I talked to several beautiful people who I thought might be able to help me in my beautiful search,  trying to share more beautiful descriptions of what I had lost.  At one point, I said, “It’s a ring – no, not a jewelry ring, but a big silver ring holding together rectangles that have questions on them.”  Everybody tried their beautiful best to understand my stumbling attempts to describe what I had lost, but nobody had seen or could find my beautiful questions.  Knowing I had searched everywhere, I decided that some beautiful person had probably picked up the questions and might put them to beautiful use.

On my beautiful walk back to my beautiful car, I had beautiful thoughts about how we all deal with loss.  Then, much to my beautiful surprise, I saw what I was seeking, as plain as the beautiful day, lying on a beautiful spot on the beautiful sidewalk where lots of beautiful people were walking.  I knew that it had NOT been there when I had walked by that same beautiful spot before. I picked up the Lost and Found item with beautiful speed, placed it on a beautiful wall, and took this beautiful photo:


I am doing my beautiful best to follow the beautiful directions on that beautiful card: “Tell about something beautiful.”

My beautiful readers might notice that my description of the lost item was beautifully imperfect.

Ready to see my other beautiful photos from my beautiful day?  Brace your beautiful self— there’s about a hundred of them.

If you want to expand any of those beautiful pictures, like this one …


… or this one ….


… or this one …


… or this one ….


… or this one …


… or  this one …


… or this one …


… just give it a beautiful click.

What beautiful song should I share in this beautiful moment?

Here‘s “Something Beautiful” performed by Trombone Shorty with Lenny Kravtiz.

Tell about something beautiful, if you choose, in the comments section below.

Thanks to all who help me tell about something beautiful every day, including YOU.

Categories: life during the pandemic, personal growth, photojournalism | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | 26 Comments

Day 154: Worry, losing, and finding things.

Jonathan Hilton, a blogger I follow and really appreciate here, recently did a great post about worrying. What I found most helpful about that post were the numbers he quoted about worry.

Here were his Worry Mathematics: After subtracting (1) future-oriented worries about things that never happen, (2) past-oriented worries about things we can’t change, (3) needless worries about our health, and (4) petty miscellaneous worries, the post concluded that 92% of what we worry about is wasted energy.

92% of worry is needless, said Jonathan.

I’ve said, to people, that worry never does any good, but I certainly believe that 8% of time spent worrying is “legitimate” (involving financial and other survival issues). However, as Jonathan pointed out, worry is different from concern. As he wrote “Worrying has never fed a child or ended any trouble.”

In any case, I know that seeing such a low number, in Jonathan’s post — plus his specific dismissing of different types of worry — has stuck with me, in a helpful way. I’m doing an even better job, since I read his post, of letting go of worry (which is an old and well-practiced habit for me).

Here are some other things that are helping me let go of worry, these days:

  • Having faith in my own process.
  • Assuming the best, instead of the worst.
  • Letting go of concern about what other people are thinking.
  • Being more present in the moment.

My sense is, though, that I’ve probably written about all of the above, before. And I’m not sure how helpful such general, oft-cited statements might be, for you.

So I’d like to write a little about some specific improvements I’ve noticed lately — related to letting go of worry — in a particular area.

Losing things.

My mind seems to have an infinite capacity to lose track of objects.

That’s an old and familiar story, for me. My mother used to say that I would lose my head if it wasn’t attached.

However, there are many things that are NOT attached to me, and most of those I lose, regularly. These include my keys, my cell phone, directions to places I need to be NOW, sales receipts, the one ingredient that I just bought at the supermarket that I need for cooking, the nail or screw I need to put something together, that one piece of vital information I need for something incredibly time-sensitive and important, and so on and so forth.

And I lose things in such creative ways! I’ve oft stated that my brain seems to want to make my life more interesting, exciting, and challenging, misplacing necessary objects at exactly the wrong time. If something is really important, I tend to carry it around with me and then — BAM! — just when I’m ready to leave the house, it’s gone. Then, when I’m looking for it, it’s clear that I’ve hidden it, with clever and unmatched skill.

It’s like I’m the best magician possible, making things disappear, even when I think I’m paying close attention.

George Carlin, one of my Comedy Heroes, did a classic piece on Losing Things, which I first heard many years ago, and still quote:

THAT routine never gets old, I have to say. I just watched it again, and LLOLed (Literary Laughed Out Loud), the whole way through.

He was so great.

Anyway, I haven’t lost track of my point: Here’s how things have changed, lately, for me.

Now that I’m worrying less, being more mindful, and having more faith in myself and my capabilities, I’ve gotten a lot better at finding things.

I’m still losing these important things, mind you. But when the cell phone, keys, directions, and banana guacamole are gone, right when I need them most, I don’t berate myself. Instead, I accept, with forgiveness and humor, my human tendency to Do That Losing Thang. Then, my mind is clear from self-judgment and regret, and I can usually find what I lost, pretty quickly.

It’s like I’m accepting and even loving the quirky way my mind works. Which is wonderful. I’m also letting go of anxiety about being late (which losing things might worsen). And I’m having faith that the lost things are there, waiting to be found. (As my friend Eleanor said to me recently, when I described losing and finding my keys, “You knew they were still on the planet.”) And, even if things do seem to be lost forever, I’ve been realizing that I can survive without them.

As a result, I’ve been finding things much more quickly. And I’m on time, more frequently.

So, dear readers, I’m going to wrap up this post … to give myself time, if needed, to find my keys, cell phone, lunch, and my head — in whatever places I might hide them — before I leave for work.

Thanks to Jonathan Hilton, George Carlin, Eleanor, and you, for finding your way here today.

Categories: personal growth | Tags: , , , , , , , , | 19 Comments

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