My socks wandered off the other day and when they returned I asked them, ”Did you miss me?”
Wasn’t long after, that my coat went missing and then my keys, favorite yoga top and even my polka-dotted bra ran away. All of them , somehow found their way back and when they did I asked each, ”Did you miss me?”
Initially it felt a tad odd asking things anything, And then a bit weirder asking things without hearts and souls, if they missed me. But call it self consciousness, insecurity or perhaps its abandonment by things that don’t matter phobia. I can’t really say. All I know is that for most of my life I’ve wanted to be missed. No really. I want to be missed, like really, really missed. I want someone, preferably everyone to notice when I don’t show up, when I’ve gone missing, when I don’t return on time or when I’ve moved half way around the globe for something I believed in that was nothing really.
So today after a month of being on the road visiting my family and friends back in my hometown, away from this place I can’t yet call home, imagine my surprise when friends I’ve only known for two months or less started telling me they missed me.
The morning coffee crowd, where I use to write Hope when I was in town and getting up at the crack of east coast dawn told me they were relieved I was back, now mornings could get back to normal as I’d be in the corner typing away like a mad woman as they paid for their double vanilla latte’s- by tomorrow. A client of mine hugged me and told me she couldn’t believe it had been a month since I left. Another friend who will soon be a client said it was about time I got back to town- his dreams were waiting and he needed a helper to build this gym oh yeah, he said he missed me -too. And then at 7:45 pm as I shuffled into the hot yoga room one of my favorite yogi’s shouted, “Its about time, I’ve missed you…” Who would have known that sweating your buns off on a mat next to a near stranger could lead to a person missing you.
Unless I’m hallucinating I’m living my dream.
I’m being missed.
Lately when I leave people seem to notice and dang- I think this may indicate that I’m actually miss-able….
On the plane ride back to this place I can’t yet call home- I found myself missing those I love in my hometown. Missing my polka dotted bra is one thing, missing my daughter or nineteen year-old-son is another. I don’t like being away from what I’ve always known or the 3 people that love me. And still. God has given me a clear sign. It is here I am to stay for the time being. He has people for me to meet and miracles are unfolding all around me. And so with a heart full of missing- I commit. I commit to follow a path that is not clear and certainly not comfortable and to believe that God won’t ever go missing. I can trust his guidance and I can be obedient, even when my heart is full of missing and I’m along way from the place I use to call home…
Photo By Kstepanoff at Flickr