On Being Lost: Part 1

Ordinarily, being lost is a condition we choose to avoid, but it’s also one about which we are very curious.  Lost places, lost causes, and lost people are often at the center of the stories we tell.  Lost, for example, was one of the most popular television shows of all time.

In its universe, anxiety, uncertainty, disorientation and finally the complete collapse of time if not meaning were prominent features.  And yet for some of the characters, in the end, being lost wasn’t too bad.  You sometimes got the feeling that despite the apparent accident that brought them to the island, being lost was preferred to anyplace else.  They might have been lost, but maybe more at home than ever.

 Last week my wife and I went to the Black Hills. Evergreens dusted by a light snow that was crunchy under foot, deep blue skies, cold still, thin air, and the off-season abandonment of the trails and hotels and roads made for a perfect opportunity to vacate everyday responsibilities — at least for a little while.  We chose to lose ourselves in a place that was different from Iowa.  It wasn’t the island, but it was different enough that we could pretend it was. Being lost can sometimes be deliberate. People sometimes choose to be lost.

While being lost is often a prelude to disaster, there’s something about being on that edge that attracts us. The challenge and thrill of not knowing what’s coming next exerts a powerful temptation to our ingenuity. It dares us to confirm what we believe to be the essential qualities of being human. It dares us to test ourselves.

Some like it more than others but almost everyone has at least one moment in their life when they were, in one way or another, lost, and had to find their way. Doing so yields a profound sense of satisfaction. But wouldn’t it be nice if there was a way to get this thrill that is a little less dangerous than actually being lost?

It turns out, as might be expected of us, we’ve managed to find a means of doing just that. We can get lost in a book, or a painting, or song, or a game. There are risks involved, and the greater the risk, often the greater the thrill. But that’s for the next entry.