find - v. t. (found):
come across, meet with, obtain; recognise as present, acknowledge; experience; discover or prove by trial; discover by search; come home to; appeal to. etc.
I have this ring.
It’s quite le petite ring.
It’s silver in colour
though not in composition. It is light & thin, with a twisted band & a
small cut out peace sign in the middle. In monetary terms it is worth
approximately $5, but to me it is worth so much more.
For some reason, I have grown to love the little ring. I am in awe of its
understated chicness and feel connected to its calm, quiet message. It is small
but it has a lot to say. It doesn’t need to shout it out. The ring is cool with
just putting it out there. Peace in a simple form: both beautiful and
mind-boggling.
I’ve become attached to the ring. It fits perfectly on my right hand
ring finger. I don’t need to wear it everyday but I do like to have it around
in case I decide to take it for a spin.
I lost le ring.
It came off my pinky finger (where it doesn’t belong in
the first place) while I was at work. And because it’s small and light, finding
it was one of those instances where you know it’s never going to happen but you
try anyway.
Days after I lost le petite ring, I woke up feeling uneasy. I wanted my
peace ring. I wanted to wear it. I wished I wasn’t stupid enough to put it on
my pinky and thought: it serves me right for putting it there. I thought of the
other, less tangible thing I’d lost recently and felt fed up with my current lack
of gumption. I also felt a bit silly for being so distraught about it, but
sometimes you can’t help the way you feel.
And then something very odd happened. For those of you who know of my
aversion to needles and to blood and to spontaneous decisions that alter your
existence, you will know this is a little out of character:
I decided then and
there that I would just go and get a bloody tattoo of the damn ring and be done
with it. At least I wouldn’t lose it and would never have to worry about it again.
Yep. Done. Tattoo. Ring. Now. Go.
45 minutes later, while sipping my tea and finishing my breakfast, I got
a message from the gorgeous Tessy. It said: Pretty sure you owe me the world
when you find out what I found for you.
Just like that. And it was back.
I’m not getting the tattoo. Because I’m not supposed to and because my
little ring might get the wrong idea. But I’m not too worried about it either
way.
I suppose this story might not make sense to everyone, but to me, in a
quirky, round about way: it makes sense of the entire world.
Sometimes life is what happens when a little ring opens your eyes to how
serendipitous our existence can be. Nothing you love is ever lost. You just
need the guts to find it, even if it is at the end of a tattoo gun.
LOVE MUCH & ALWAYS (can we kick it, yes we can!) X
