I don’t have many things and generally don’t allow myself to have a relationship with “things”. When I was home for Christmas, I rediscovered an expensive leather jacket that was given to me by a family friend who has died. I liked how I felt in the jacket so I brought it with me to Los Angeles and Dallas and wore it often. Last Monday, I lost my jacket. I’m fairly certain it was stolen from me by housekeeping, but I digress.
Due primarily to how I frame the world and my experience, I felt helpless, embarrassed and guilty. I spent the better part of Wednesday evening self-loathing. I just moved to Dallas so I have no close relationships with anyone in the area which could quite easily have served to preoccupy my mind. Instead, I wrote an e-mail to my closest family and friends and effectively shared an e-tantrum. On that Wednesday night, I managed to search for my jacket everywhere I’d been in the last 4 days, but was in no form to pose thoughtful questions and draw constructive conclusions. Today, I am.
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