The Art Of Losing.

I found these amazing words in a post on the superforest website. Which is one of my favorite sites. It often provides me with food for thought. It is inspirational and truly beautiful. But this post really jumped out at me. These are the kind of words that make you want to be better, do better, be more, do more. They make me want to live more!

"I start this with an unformed theme in mind. Knowing that these

words will be directionless, yet knowing as well that something needs

to be said.

These words want to describe the way the full moonlight cast itself

across the small ocean in the backyard of my small world tonight… like

the light of the distant fisherman’s lantern in the shallows.

The way the water cast its shimmering surface upon itself again and

again like new skin, or the way the sea spray cast itself upon me like

a caress. The way the lights of the homes on the hills cast

themselves out across the distance as though to speak their place and

significance in a small sky. Or the way my thoughts tried to cast

themselves into the center of something they can not nor could

never grasp.

But the thing that gets caught up in all of this is not the words

which too cast themselves out across the screen, the page, the empty

spaces of this small white universe. The words that cannot catch,

capture, grasp. Spilling out like the sea on the reef.

What is caught in the net of the night is what words cannot describe.

It is a fleeting sensation like the first glimpse of a sunset through

trees, or a cloud swept mountain, or the passing eyes of a stranger –

before the mind can register, before the thought: “Beautiful!”. It is

the undefined moment. It is the end of labels. It precedes the birth

of language. It surpasses it.

And I find myself in conversation saying: “It’s amazing how easy it is

to forget the little things like this, in the caught up of life.” The inverse echo

of a theme: “In every moment there is such richness,if you only look for it.”

And in my mind I think: I do not stop to appreciate enough. And in my

mind I go back over those moments and places when the unlabeled beauty

of a place — a moment in the midst of an indescribable became the

everything of a life:

The shore of a rainswept beach where the river bled and the green sand

swallowed everything, the limestone waterfall with its easter egg rocks,

the greek lighthouse in the night I lost myself, that swollen river hugging the

firefly field. How many places became a relationship? How many moments

define a life?

Back in the context of the lives we create, I find my keys gone. And searching

frantically for them — happily lost — I remember in my frantic search what I

had only just reminded myself not to forget.

I remember music. I remember the page. I remember words. The lines

of a favorite poem: “The art of losing isn’t hard to master. . . Lose

something everyday”. I lose what I’ve come to know. I remember what

night means before the word “night”. Or sea, or moon. I remember the

feeling of things. I remember passion.

Give yourself away. Lose yourself, lose yourself, do not stop! Leave

everything behind.

I sit here losing money over lost keys and losing words into a

directionless letter writ to no one and losing time into a small life

that was always lost, or always wanted to be.

The beauty is in the mystery. Your life is defined by the undefinable moments."