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lost but found
"Sometimes when you are up, you are down...
and sometimes...just sometimes...
when you are lost...you are found"
Lewis Carrol- Alice through the looking glass
Now I do not recall in the book who it was exactly that said this line, most probably the kitten of Cheshire or that beloved clothier, one Hatter most mad. But it was a thing said and it has haunted me since I found these works as a child. Not the kind of haunting one would dread, I only have room for the one spirit in my life and I have to keep it light if I am to do at least ten impossible things before breakfast.
No, this is the kind that you carry with you through time and turmoil, like an old friend that you take comfort with when your soul gets weighed down by the trials of this world. You take comfort in their company without words, and that is enough. It's here our stories are told Stories told from generation to generation, passed down from days long past Stories of this life that still mean something. The kind of something that could change everything. Stories where we are weighed and measured. Where our steel is tempered with temptation and our conviction tested. Stories of inspiration where despite the odds we found our way when things seemed most lost, and we gained much more muchness.
Now it is time, and we must make new stories for the ones to come
It is mostly that I have found that our truest stories tend to lie down in our path. A path that most often you do not even know we were on. Placed there to trip us up when we need to learn something. It is there we are the most lost & it is there where our true story tends to begin.
Sadly, it's often here where an old ones ends.
"This is not the end, this is not the beginning of the end. this is the end of the beginning."
Churchill
It is here, that we learn our true measure. Where we find if we have what it takes to be the hero like the stories of old, or do we fall from the path? As with every story, It is dark here, and we know to fear this place It has a scent to it that no matter how far we like to think we've evolved, there's a primal side that will always recognize it.
Death.
We fear it. Justified as it is not our natural state.
We were not created to die, we chose it. We choose it still We were meant for a different life. One without fear of the dark Yet we continue down this path of only one conclusion.
But then we see it! Light! Just a flicker of light really, and we have to wonder if it was really even there. We've been led down this path before after all. So desperate, so hungry are we for any shade other than despair we cling to like that old familier friend. In this perfect dark of our own design, just the slightest flicker can burn with all the intensity of a thousand candles. It is here, in a silence so loud as to be deafening where all the noise this world tries to distract our every thought with has fallen away, we finally step onto our path the one built just for us and no other.
I sometimes wish to perhaps one day see the whole tapestry, if such a sight could be laid bare for me to see. Most likely though, He that designs such creations will not deign to share such wonderous workings with you or I...
Most likely for the best that way. Got no patients for the long game and I know me well enough to know that I could see my way to turning it into a right and proper shit show.
So for now, Like a lost child.
I will just enjoy being found.
© James Houghton
and sometimes...just sometimes...
when you are lost...you are found"
Lewis Carrol- Alice through the looking glass
Now I do not recall in the book who it was exactly that said this line, most probably the kitten of Cheshire or that beloved clothier, one Hatter most mad. But it was a thing said and it has haunted me since I found these works as a child. Not the kind of haunting one would dread, I only have room for the one spirit in my life and I have to keep it light if I am to do at least ten impossible things before breakfast.
No, this is the kind that you carry with you through time and turmoil, like an old friend that you take comfort with when your soul gets weighed down by the trials of this world. You take comfort in their company without words, and that is enough. It's here our stories are told Stories told from generation to generation, passed down from days long past Stories of this life that still mean something. The kind of something that could change everything. Stories where we are weighed and measured. Where our steel is tempered with temptation and our conviction tested. Stories of inspiration where despite the odds we found our way when things seemed most lost, and we gained much more muchness.
Now it is time, and we must make new stories for the ones to come
It is mostly that I have found that our truest stories tend to lie down in our path. A path that most often you do not even know we were on. Placed there to trip us up when we need to learn something. It is there we are the most lost & it is there where our true story tends to begin.
Sadly, it's often here where an old ones ends.
"This is not the end, this is not the beginning of the end. this is the end of the beginning."
Churchill
It is here, that we learn our true measure. Where we find if we have what it takes to be the hero like the stories of old, or do we fall from the path? As with every story, It is dark here, and we know to fear this place It has a scent to it that no matter how far we like to think we've evolved, there's a primal side that will always recognize it.
Death.
We fear it. Justified as it is not our natural state.
We were not created to die, we chose it. We choose it still We were meant for a different life. One without fear of the dark Yet we continue down this path of only one conclusion.
But then we see it! Light! Just a flicker of light really, and we have to wonder if it was really even there. We've been led down this path before after all. So desperate, so hungry are we for any shade other than despair we cling to like that old familier friend. In this perfect dark of our own design, just the slightest flicker can burn with all the intensity of a thousand candles. It is here, in a silence so loud as to be deafening where all the noise this world tries to distract our every thought with has fallen away, we finally step onto our path the one built just for us and no other.
I sometimes wish to perhaps one day see the whole tapestry, if such a sight could be laid bare for me to see. Most likely though, He that designs such creations will not deign to share such wonderous workings with you or I...
Most likely for the best that way. Got no patients for the long game and I know me well enough to know that I could see my way to turning it into a right and proper shit show.
So for now, Like a lost child.
I will just enjoy being found.
© James Houghton
