// LOST & FOUND //

// LOST & FOUND //
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I recently went on a little venture, and felt financially stable enough to enter the hallowed halls of my favourite, hipster stationary store called ‘Typo’ during one of their momentous sales. For anyone who knows what being in ‘Typo’ is like, it’s like being at a grocery store on an empty stomach: some purchases will be out of necessity and others, well, they just look good and fill the soul more than filling necessary space. Upon having realized that I had seemingly lost a bit of inspiration to write (life does that), I thought that buying cute stationary would revitalize my desire to put pen to paper again (or fingertips to keyboard), but I later realized something.

After a few months of using my stationary and simultaneously looking for inspiration, I lost the super cheap black felt pen that I had placed my hope in to elevate my writing to JK Rowling’s status. Much like any somewhat lazy person, I gave up looking for the pen when I realized that it was probably dwelling somewhere deep in a dustbin in the house. However, when I found it randomly displaced in a vase months later, I realised that it didn’t matter how hard or meticulously I had gone searching for it, because I would never have found it in the random vase it was always in. The truth is, when we desperately go looking for something we think we need to survive, our desperation leads us to places that are quite far from where it’s truly meant to be. Ironically, although I really ‘needed’ to find the pen, I was only ever going to find it when I had stopped looking, because sometimes, in the midst of being lost, we find ourselves and the other things we need to find, when we stop looking so hard.

I also realized, upon finding that my great pen’s ink had actually dried up in the interim, that sometimes we overemphasize being found, and completely neglect the fact that there was so much value found while we were lost. I was quite relieved to find my pen, but it took losing it to realise that the pen was never of that much importance to me or my writing dilemma, but rather the condition of my heart while I was using it.

I also found that there is a general propensity that us humans have, where we associate being ‘found’ to being in the exact same position we were before we lost our footing on a few things, and that is highly unlikely in circumstances where things are bound to change. Change is inevitable, and with change comes the huge possibility that some things will be lost, and other (probably better) things will later be found. But something must be lost, before a better version of ourselves can be found, it’s a trade-off in itself.

Somewhere between trying to return to the very place where my writing passions first started, and trying to accommodate my passions that inevitably changed the narrative of my blog and consequently, my life, I realized that there was no shame in being lost, and there was so much beauty in new aspirations being found. My cheapie pen being lost might be a random example, but I urge anyone reading this to embrace being a bit lost. No journey is promised to be easy, but it’s always worth it. I lost myself in a dream I had for myself, stumbled on a few more dreams other people had for me, but found myself exactly where I believe I needed to be, which is deeper in the presence of God, and more courageous than ever to find more of myself in the creative ventures He takes me down.

Love Always,
Thulz
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OH, and I will be posting style diaries soon! That passion was never lost, just dormant 😉

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