Lose Yourself

Today, Tiger and I got lost.

Not deliberately. Not in a sort of Zen "losing oneself in order to find oneself" sort of mumbo jumbo.

We got actually, terribly, horribly, no-good-ly lost. In Launceston. Yes, Launcestonians, I can hear you all snorting with derision into your cups of Earl Grey (or Darjeeling or Orange Pekoe. I don't know why I picked Earl Grey. Maybe just because I don't like it, so I think all people who snort with derision must drink it). I mean, how can you get lost in Launceston? It's approximately as big as the backyards of people who live in the richer suburbs of Sydney. It's miniscule. It barely deserves the title of city. Really, it's a one-horse town with delusions of grandeur.

And, indeed, after living here for a total of six years (with a spell in Hobart in between stays), I didn't think it was possible. I thought I knew this town like the back of my hand.

Nope. Got lost. Even with the help of Google Maps. Google Maps can eat my bonnet. It has no idea what it's on about.

We were looking for a foodstore, which apparently has one of the best gluten free ranges in Launceston. 

It may well do. After forty five minutes of looking for it, as opposed to the twelve Google Useless Mapspants said it would take, traversing some of the highest hills in Australia, I did not care one jot for gluten free sections. I just wanted to go to bed.

But the thing is, Tiger loved it. Tiger had a grand old time, walking up New Streets and seeing New Things. And, on the way back (where there were fewer hills or, at least, ones that went down, not up), I started to enjoy it too. The part of Launceston we were in was actually very pretty, full of old houses and sweet gardens and parks. 

It was, I decided, an Adventure. And as Tiger squealed and exclaimed, I found myself having fun being lost. Or at least not quite found yet.

So it was sort of Zen, in its own way, in the end. And maybe symbolic. In my own life, I'm trying to take a path less travelled by. Maybe today I took the first steps. I got lost and I let myself enjoy the newness of being lost; the wonder of it all.

Tiger does that to you. She makes you believe in magic. And possibility. And hope.

It's a shame she doesn't come with built-in Google Maps.

~ Love, Miss Cackle x