Lost and Found

Lost.  The end. The beginning. The experience.

Yes, we did have a Lost party.  Yes, we did watch the two hour review just prior to Lost that helped build up the Lost excitement. We also watched the hour after Lost where they interview the Cast, but most importantly we watched the two and a half hours of the episode where all was not revealed - or was it?

After being enthralled with direct Lost quotations for over five hours straight, it's no surprised that after I went home and attempted to sleep my dreams were vividly controlled by Lostmania. As I lay in bed, after consuming way too much junk food and a Monster Java, my brain refused to turn off and I found pieces of the Lost puzzle floating around in my mind. The answers all seemed there if only I was conscious enough to put them together. 

Something was telling me how important Lost was.  How important was it?  No idea, but in my dream Lost was the asnwer to everything, the ending was the key to all the questions of humanity. In a Matrix-esque ending I was left to ponder on the meaning of life, death and the world in between.

What has Lost left us with? (*spoiler alert* I think) The idea that all of us could die and continue living and experiencing things such as vivid as pain, love and heartbreak can be both intimidating and relieving.  I like to think that all emotion doesn't end when we die.  Death for me has been a mixture of a friend and foe, something I've longed and dreaded when things have become extremely difficult.  Lost seemed to open the possibilities that there is something there and it might be something we have never realized but might actually have to work for and come to love.  All of the couples at the end were happy with the person they found, (after?) they died. It was as though in life they couldn't discover them in the way they were meant to and so in death they were led to them, someone they could be happy with and learn to truly love.  I guess it gives me hope in some strange silly way that the fear of death isn't necessary  if it's just another kind of life.

I wasn't happy with the ending at first, it left so many questions - Michael and Walt? What was up with them?  Why were the others after the children all the time?  What was up with the golden showers (he he)?  Why the Jacob vs. Smoke Monster story?  Was it all just a spiritual manipulation created to force people like Jack and Locke to believe in something greater than themselves?  Was it all just a tool to test the existence of faith in each person? To see at what point they would believe or give up?

And then, the question is, did they leave all the questions unanswered so that we could interpret everything in our own way?  Are we meant to apply the island to ourselves personally...to examine what impossible feats seem required for us to accomplish? To believe in? Are we are very own smoke monsters? Our own Jacobs?  And do we fight amongst ourselves, trying to release or contain the bad?  I'd like to think we are.  The idea of placing ourselves in a situation that will test us in ways we never see coming is the very essence of Lost, and it makes us think outside the box in a new way for every new episode.

I hate to claim such a blasphemy, but in many ways it seems that God has done the same to us.  We all are on our little island, fighting the "others" that we see, trying to determine who we can trust and who is looking to betray us. What we determine is ultimate evil (smoke monster) we discover may have a story of their own, and our reactions to it could be good or bad.  Yes, we all believe that Jack was good throughout, but he seemed to make stupid decisions sometimes.  He was too faithful at points (the bomb - "none of us can die") and not faithful enough at times ("the island has chosen you"). Aren't we all that way?  Do we learn to over-apply faith sometimes and under-apply it other times? I know sometimes I do.  Sometimes there is that constant reassurance "everything will be okay, that doesn't matter" that makes me placated, and I have to force myself to fight for something instead of become dormant. Other times I'm so full of doubt that I just want to roll up into a ball and forget that I'm even alive.

In the background there is always the belief that I'm special, but someone seems to be arguing with me in my head.  My smoke monster says "no, no one is special, that's just a cheat to make you believe in something" and my Jacob "No, you were meant to be here, you are a candidate, you are special"...

They are Always fighting.

I am Always Lost,

Just waiting to be Found.

Maybe it's just about finding myself...

A Day in the Life of a Crazy Woman...

It really isn't too far away, I thought to myself as I grabbed my purse, daughter and iPod and got in the car.  The nearest Grocery Store was only a few blocks away and I just wanted something quick - milk, carrots and cookies, yummy! I put on my sunglasses and turned on the car, contemplating which direction to take.  I was terrified of being seen at the local grocery store, but driving seven miles to not been seen seemed a little crazy. I could pop into the local gas station, but they were so overpriced.  Maybe I could wear a hoody and no one would realize it was me.

I made my way the entire six blocks and parked between two other cars so no one would realize I was there.  Damn that I had a stupid snow rack on my car, I was so easily identifiable. I parked and quickly jumped out in one of those wanna-be-ninja moves, nearly running into my own car in an attempt to get around it and followed closely by my trotting six-year-old.

We wandered through the aisles as quickly as possible, an arm popping out now and then to grab the necessary items. Maybe my sunglasses would hide me from someone - just a delusional hope that gave a mild amount of security.

And then..

There she was - someone I knew. I barely caught her out of the corner of my eye and kept walking, attempting to make a strategic movement around the tiny store without being seen by her. I reorganized the items in the basket on my arm, hiding the cookies and ice cream so no one would see them. I checked both sides of the open aisle before walking in, dragging my distracted child along with me.

So far so good, she had been in the hygiene section checking out shampoos - I should be safe.  I skittled into the nearest checkout counter, positioning myself so that she wouldn't be able to see me over the gum kiosk. Luckily, I was short so she probably wouldn't be able to see me behind it. I loaded all my food on the moving counter, junk food first so it would be the first to be bagged. I held my breath.

My daughter was chatting something to me about kittens or gum, but I wasn't paying attention, Starring forward, I focused on my peripherials. Please let me get out of here before she stops looking at her shampoo bottle! An older man steps in line behind me, at least my rear is protected now.

No!

I could see her over the top of the aisle. It had to be her, she had been the only customer on that side of the store, and her wavy gray and white hair was unmistakable. Shit! What now? I could feel myself cowering as she made her way to the counter.  When surrounded one only has so many options. All of a sudden I was totally engrossed in my debit card - look at the pretty colors on the label, see how it shines when the light hits it? So pretty!

Only a minute more and my groceries would be safely tucked away in my bag and I could run...er...walk ever-so-calmly back into my car.  I was starring forward now, what a lovely cashier, how perfect of a smile, these bags were so white, how nice everything was. I could only put it off for so long though...

That dirty whore. Can you believe this is where she is? After what she did to my husband, I can barely endure the sight of her! And look, she's bought cookies and ice cream. Ha, fat cow.  I thought she was trying to lose weight.  Some good that will do her, she's just like her mother, fat and useless. I can't believe my husband was ever involved with her. 

I could tell that's what she was thinking.  Her words were coming at me as though bricks were being thrown at my head. All the words seemed to be brimming out now, but I had to ignore them, long enough to escape.

Skank

Breathe. It will go away. I grabbed my bags, almost making good my escape when my six-year-old smiles and points.  I can't ignore it, that would be too rude.  I breathe in deeply, cringe and turn around.  There she is.  I fake a small smile and nearly unidentifiable wave, and see her return one of the same degree. Doomed.  I failed utterly in the attempt to pretend she wasn't there and that the voices in my head didn't remind me how much she must hate me.  Or worse.  Maybe I wasn't even good enough to hate.

I scurry out of the grocery store, breathing hard and trying to shove down the feelings that are emerging. One of the top fifty people I didn't want to see on a daily basis.  Can't wait for Sunday where I get to see twenty more of them.

People wonder why I hate church, why I hate people, why I shop online. I don't hate church or people, I just hate the voices in my head that remind me of how much I deserve to be hated.