There have been times in my life, usually when I've worked very hard for days and days upon end with few chances to really relax in between, when I have found myself lost. I use that diametric phrase 'found myself lost' on purpose. When in the midst of a busy time of life (um, all of it) I don't notice that I have lost myself. I run on the mundane, accomplishing rote exercises and routines. I don't have a chance to think deeply. I don't ponder my life in a way that causes me to stop and consider my direction, my feelings, or how I'm doing at accomplishing anything. I push on and push through until I am frazzled, unhappy, and at a loss---but don't know why.
Finally, when I get (or take) the chance to slow down, it begins to dawn on me that the real, inner me is vacant - left the premises. I have literally lost myself. I don't know where I went, how long I've been gone, or how I got there. I just know I'm nowhere to be found. I exist, but I exist without my real self being present. A portion of me has taken a back seat to the professional, homemaker, exerciser, friend, spouse sides of me. I've been pushed down because there is no room. I've been suffocated out of existence and squelched to a place where I must stay until there is space or break in time enough to emerge. As time rolls on, I'm smaller and smaller. The real me is still alive yet lies dormant. It can't take a full-bodied breath. The only air I get is of very shallow intake, enough only to sustain life, but not to nurture it.
Then, (I'd like to say just in the nick of time, but usually way past this point), I have a pause from the normal responsibilities and requirements of life. A vacation or an illness has stopped me in my tracks, and I begin to peel off the layers that have coated the inner self. My authentic 'me' comes into view. A glimpse of myself emerges. Not a full-on vision, mind you, but just a tiny piece comes to light. I see it and I recognize it, but only slightly. I am immediately in a state of almost panic. I have an outer body experience where I see her but am not her. I want her - I want to be her. I want to take her out and put her on like a lovely new dress. She won't come all at once. She's been neglected. She's been ignored.
How do I get her back? I must summon her forth with some coercive nuances. I go to the bookshelf and pull a few of my old favorites from the shelf. These are the books that have helped form my inner me. Their words caress my true person to break free from the shackles I've inadvertently placed on her. I gather a magazine or two that I've kept over the decades so I might peruse some decor and articles I admire. I grab my pack of poems that I've written. I make a cup of coffee and sit amongst my treasures. As I delve into these items, I begin to feel a spark of life inside of me. She, who is me begins to rise like the Phoenix, breathing deeper with each inhale. Like Frankenstein's monster, pieces of myself begin to come to life.
I'm out of time. I must prepare for the next duty required of me. My inner self will have to wait for some more nourishment until a later date. I make a promise to myself that I won't wait so long this time. I won't lose her. I won't let her slip into oblivion...