This is a photocopy of a photograph taped to the door of a restaurant. It's a notice for a lost stuffed animal. Not the back of a milk carton with a missing child. Not a poster taped to a telephone poll with a missing dog or cat. Nothing typed or printed on the computer with 36 little tabs to pull off someone's name and phone number if you have any information. It's not like the missing pet that you can call and say, "Yes. I saw Fido yesterday on Main Street" and that you should leave it taped up for the next person with a bit more information to call with a few more details. Because Doudou won't be moving. If you find him, you return him. If you don't, you probably don't even notice the sign. But I noticed it. "My little boy lost his Doudou. Thank you for calling me at..........." At least I think that's what it says. If not, it makes for a nice little story. But I'm sure it's something like that.
Maybe this sign struck me because I lose a lot of stuff. I think I lose a lot of stuff, anyway. I usually find it again in a few minutes or an hour or a day. And the stuff that's gone is never terribly important anyway. Not like Doudou. What have I lost? Fortunately, at the moment I can only think of one thing. And I really don't want to spend too much time thinking about it or I might get upset if I remember something else. But for now the only thing that comes to mind is one of my sheepskin mittens. Nope. I just thought of another. I also lost my favorite green beret. I lost it in Nordstrom. That's what really gets me. I know I lost it there and since it never showed up in the Lost and Found, I know someone has it. And if I ever see someone on the street with it, I will know it's mine because I made it and it was a very cool hat.
In the end, what's the big deal if you lose something? I wish I could say and really believe, "Nothing." But I have a feeling I'm not quite there. As I type this blog from my apartment in Paris that loses almost every inch of floor space once you open the sofabed, I find myself thinking about stuff and the value of stuff. I really do think I'd be more free with less stuff, so why can't I part with it? When I move back home I'm going to do my best to leave a little behind in Paris and to find new homes for a lot of the stuff at home.
Maybe it took seeing this sign and thinking about losing stuff and writing this blog to remind me of the one thing that I lose everyday. In fact, it seems like the only really important thing that I lose. And we all lose it. Everyday. It's TIME. When that's gone it's gone forever. You can't hang up a little photo in a restaurant and ask someone to return it if they find it. It's just plain gone.
I know I spend too much time thinking about time. That's one sure way to lose it. I really can't tell you what I've done every minute that I've spent in Paris and Italy. I only know that I have taken 1 nap in the past 7 months and I haven't slept in and I've almost never gone to bed before midnight. But, what have I done? I've spent lots of hours lying around in parks. I've spent lots of hours in my neighborhood cafe trying to speak French. I've taken lots of photos and gone on lots of runs and eaten lots of cheese. I've helped a lot of people improve their English. I've learned a lot of new words in French and Italian. I've ridden my bike. I've gone to London, Brussels, Zurich and Prague. I've played with Matteo. I've gone to lots of galleries and I've paid close attention to lots of graffiti. I've bought some shoes. And I've said more than once that I'm really, really lucky. It seems I've let a lot of hours slip by. I'd like to think that these are the golden hours that James Matthew Barrie is talking about.
"You must have been warned against letting the golden hours slip by; but some of them are golden only because we let them slip by." JMB
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