J.K. Rowling

"Things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end, if not always in the way we expected."

For someone who is quite organized, I lose a lot of things.

This winter, I found my drivers license under a tire of my car one night. Soon after, a server at a restaurant found my debit card in the back pocket of her jeans.

I have lost countless socks, books, and tubes of chapstick. Socks are everywhere and nowhere. Books are in the hands of friends, tucked away on their bookshelves. The lip balm appeared in my backpack today.

Last week I lost my mind, or maybe I found it, when I decided to book a red eye flight to go back to Vermont for a weekend for a taste of that eternity.

Hiking by myself in Patagonia, I lost the trail. Eventually, I found my way back to a different one, by spotting smoke from a campsite.

I've lost friends, both intentionally and unintentionally, letting our conversations drift away, trying to pull them back, and/or losing them again.

Over the course of a hectic 5 months in New York, I lost my center. I found it here in Healdsburg a few months later.