Be assured the assertion – “Something’s missing!” – is far from trifling! It nonetheless remained until early this afternoon part of the imperceptible veneer of my life. I nonetheless have no doubt whatsoever that it is a signal and long-standing hobby horse of mine. It is one whose recognition amounts to the casual discovery of pearl in an oyster. Comically – or perhaps I should say coincidentally – I misplaced two items today. This for me qualifies as an unusual event and one which recommends my attention. My iPhone fell out of my pocket while bicycling this morning (I recovered it); and later this afternoon my lip balm fell from my pocket while driving (I haven’t located it). Both instances highlight what for me is always the equal importance of maintaining connection with things both big and small. Perfection is as indiscriminate as anything else!
I have always justifiably suffered the accusation of obsession. Fixation may be a less injurious charge. Normally I have no understanding in particular of my phobia which in this case is a preoccupation with completing the global picture of my experience. I’m not kidding! I routinely engage in private summaries of the past seventy-one years including especially references to my late parents and some of the most inconsequential and stimulating recollections involving people, things and the weather. I have the investigation reduced to decades and sometimes categories of undertakings or relationships. It’s all very tedious and an agenda which is best left to my exclusive rumination while aimlessly driving about the countryside.
In every case the scrutiny of the past leads to the same conclusion. It is rather like sitting down with almost anyone to discuss their problems; viz., nothing much comes of it. Yet the mere performance of the ceremony is often sufficient to uplift the parties and strangely to fuse the similarly screwy insight that the past is irrecoverable and that the future is indeterminable. Though this sounds less than an ideal production it manages to bring the boil to a simmer.
Everyone these days echoes the identical sense of boredom and restraint prompted by the pandemic. Though I haven’t any longer the need to prove my capacity by useful employment, I persist in my search for meaning from other immersions. This is not necessarily a high water mark of my intellect. It may be habit only that propels my repeated desire to review and assess. Certainly the legitimacy of the pursuit is doubtful at my advanced age! If all else fails its repetition acts as a moderately entertaining collage of the past.
By way of summary I wish to report that this slice of behaviour is actually part of a broader daily conviction to capture the sometimes atmospheric delight of living. I cannot recall any day of my life which for one reason or another was not of significance to me. It helps to recall who helped me get there!