Six years ago, on Valentine’s Day, I wrote another “Lost and Found” post, “dedicated to my boyfriend/inamorato/whatever Michael.” I’ve lost the need to use those words to describe Michael since we found ourselves calling each other husband and wife on December 27, 2019.
Yesterday, I realized I had lost my wallet when I was at a doctor’s appointment. I immediately lost all focus on everything else. I found the memory of looking in my wallet to make sure I hadn’t lost the card I needed for the doctor’s visit while I was walking by Fenway Park (where the Boston Red Sox lost lots of games before they found themselves in the World Series). I figured I lost the wallet soon after that.
I found the phone number of somebody I thought might be able to help me find what I’d lost. Here’s the phone conversation of me trying not to lose it:
Person Answering Phone: Hello?
Me: Hello! I need to reach the Ipswich Garage.
P.A.P.: This is not the Ipswich Garage. This is the parking office.
Me: I know! I need to talk to somebody at the Ipswich Garage. I’ve lost my wallet!
P.A.P.: You can’t call the garage.
Me: I need to contact them. I think I dropped my wallet while I was walking to the garage.
P.A.P. I can call the garage. What do you want me to tell them?
Me: Tell them I dropped my wallet. I think it’s near the statues outside of Fenway Park.
P.A.P.: If your wallet is not in the garage, they can’t help you.
Me (losing the ability to express myself in words): Arrrghhh!
P.A.P. Give me your phone number.
Have you ever lost your wallet? I was thinking about all the time lost in the future, cancelling credit cards, getting a new license, etc. etc. I lost the ability to be in the present as the medical assistance tried to measure my blood pressure (she couldn’t). When I walked into my doctor’s office, I told her I’d lost my wallet and wanted to leave to look for it. My doctor, whom I luckily found eleven years ago (and whom you can find posts about here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, here, and here), found a lot of empathy for my situation and told me to go. At that moment, my cell phone rang.
Me: Hello?
P.A.P.: Hello. They found your wallet.
Me: I love you.
P.A.P.: Thank you.
Here’s the lost-and-found wallet:
That wallet is made out of recycled billboards and I’m so glad it was found. (If you click on the link in the previous sentence, you’ll find that the wallet was lost and found before.)
Here are all the other new photos I’ve found on my phone this morning:
I’m so glad I found
when “I” becomes “we,” “illness” becomes “wellness”
… which was posted on Facebook yesterday by a group therapist I love.
I’ve found a lot of tunes titled “Lost and Found” on YouTube. Here‘s one of them, by Jorja Smith:
I’m hoping to have found comments about this lost-and-found post in the near future.
No matter what I’ve lost and found over the years, it’s always been easy for me to find gratitude. Thanks to all who helped me find what I needed to create todays post, including YOU.
#1 on my personal list of what doesn’t help is telling myself “I should have known better.”
At this point in my life, I should know better than to tell myself “I should have known better.” Nevertheless, I’ve been telling myself “I should have known better” a lot lately, even though it doesn’t help.
What would be better than telling myself “I should have known better”?
Self-forgiveness, acceptance of what is, and identifying achievable and helpful next steps.
Therefore, I forgive myself, accept what is, and identify these achievable and helpful next steps:
#1. Include my other photos from yesterday.
#2. Share some music (which should be here and here on YouTube).
#3. Express gratitude to all who helped me create this should-have-known-better post and to you!
When I help people join my therapy groups, I tell them we will work on doing more of what helps and less of what doesn’t help. I help people understand that by saying, “What helps and what doesn’t help might include thoughts, behaviors, and other people.” Because it helps to change old habits by writing things down, I helpfully suggest they keep track of what helps and what doesn’t help them.
Because it helps to know you’re not alone, I explain that I also keep track of what helps and what doesn’t help me.
Last night, my therapy group discussed the topic of “Attachments.” I wrote this:
If you’re attached to easy reading, here’s what I wrote there:
Attachments
What is your personal experience of attachment?
I get very attached to things. Lately, I’ve been working on being less attached. I am probably going to throw out a lot of things in the next few months.
My iPhone is a useful attachment for taking pictures.
I’m trying to lose my attachment to telling myself “I should have known better.”
What are your thoughts about attachments? Please attach a comment to this post, below.
I do not want to lose my attachment to gratitude, so I am attaching this thank you note to all who helped me attach this post to my blog today and to you — of course! — for attaching yourself here, now.
The Year(s) of Living Non-Judgmentally 