Lost really has two disparate meanings. Losing things is about the familiar falling away, getting lost is about the unfamiliar appearing. There are objects and people that disappear from your sight or knowledge or possession; you lose a bracelet, a friend, the key. You still know where you are. Everything is familiar except that there is one item less, one missing element. Or you get lost, in which case the world has become larger than your knowledge of it. Either way, there is a loss of control. Imagine yourself streaming through time shedding gloves, umbrellas, wrenches, books, friends, homes, names. This is what the view looks like if you take a rear-facing seat on the train. Looking forward you constantly acquire moments of arrival, moments of realization, moments of discovery. The wind blows your hair back and you are greeted by what you have never seen before. The material falls away in onrushing experience. It peels off like skin from a molting snake. Of course to forget the past is to lose the sense of loss that is also memory of an absent richness and a set of clues to navigate the present by; the art is not one of forgetting but letting go. And when everything else is gone, you can be rich in loss. – Rebecca Solnit
You Can be Rich in Loss
by Rudri | Aug 27, 2014 | Thursday Musing | 4 comments
This is beautiful, and I wasn’t surprised when I saw that it came from Rebecca Solnit. I just finished one of her books yesterday, and her writing is beautiful and smart. Thanks for sharing.
Which book did you read? I am reading The Faraway Nearby currently. Her prose gives situations texture. I often find myself nodding my head in agreement.
Rebecca Solnit’s work is refreshing and intense. I enjoyed “A Field Guide to Getting Lost.”