What is this about losing things, one after the other? What is the real story? Losing is more a question of not finding what you are looking for. It's more a question of your asking: "Where did I put it?"
Perhaps there is too much on your mind. Perhaps you have too much squirreled away. You put something away... somewhere, or you overlooked putting it away. How could you blank out like this? Something so important to you. It is somewhere. Or it never was.
Sometimes, another day, the missing item appears before you. Here it is, suddenly right in front of you. And sometimes it is never found, and you feel a chunk out of your heart.
Human beings misplace things, even irreplaceable things. Even when you are on track in life, you lose track. Oh, for the simple life. Once upon a time, living life was simpler. You are certain it was.
You envy the Nomads who rolled up their blankets, took a pot or pan or two, perhaps some corn with them. That was their collection. No bills came in the mail or on the internet. There were no train schedules, no reservations to make and to remember. Life was lived, as it were, at your fingertips. There were no sock drawers. There were no socks to lose. Such a catalog of items never crossed your mind.
It could be that your mind has had to balloon with a huge table of contents. How many items can you carry in your mind?
You don't want your mind to have to be an encyclopedia of information.
You don't want such an assortment of things as you have. You crave your grandmother's china, and yet your china closet is full. At the same time as you crave blank spaces, you may be caught up in filling up everything to the brim.
What is really lost, dear friends, when your larder is so full?
With everything that you call your possession, a knot is tied.
And, oh, My Goodness, the collection of memories you have, collections of memories of all kinds.
It seems that you are on overload. You don't want it, yet you insist on it. Oh, how you long for the simple life, and how you long to fill up your life and make it far from simple.
What is this mix of past, present, and future all about?
Perhaps the Nomads you so envy lived in the simple present. Now you collect even photographs. You may be beginning to see that time and space are one and the same. Neither really exists, yet how important the two concepts have become to you. Time and space do not exist, yet you hold on to what cannot be held onto with all your might.
You don't know how to stop being a collector, this avid collector who wants to hold even all that which doesn't exist.
You want to be a collector of records, perhaps something that says that you were here on Earth, and that you are here now.
If there were nothing to collect, how would there be such a thing as lost or forgotten? Where could the word where exist? Not to be found would be a truism. Not to find, a fact of life.
If you lose something, surely you existed. If you have a set of china rather than one bowl for everything, perhaps you can hold on to the belief that you exist as a separate entity.
Forget? Well, forgotten. Lost? Well, lost. Search for? Well, on an expedition.
Now, here is another theory as well, which is: Nothing is lost.
In any case, you can leave out folly. You can omit complications. You can be free. I mandate that you are free from the past, and you are free from the future. Beloveds, you are a free-wheeling Soul in the present. Bless your Soul. This you are. Soul. Nothing to collect, nothing to lose, not even your life -- you are alive. Forget losing and remembering. Mind not the details so much.
All the details that pursue you are just that, details. Be a bird on the wing. Enjoy bird song. Come, fly along with Me.