It's a fossil Ammonite mounted in steel and it's a beautiful honey brown. I got it in Jasper on our last trip and everytime I look at it I remember the fun we had there.
Anyway, yesterday I took it off to wash my hands in the sink. I set it on the edge of the sink, thinking I would put it back on after I dried my hands.
But I forgot.
I didn't remember until I was on my way to class last night. When I finally did remember, I started freaking out. Granted, my hysterics only lasted a couple of minutes until I realized, with my husband's help, that little could be done about it just then. It would have to wait until I went back into work the next morning. Then I could look for it.
I started to wonder why it bothered me so much. The money it had cost was one issue, but that did not seem to be the root cause. The idea of someone finding it and being over-joyed at their good fortune didn't really bother me either. I could live happily if I new someone else was loving it in my place. What really bothered me was the possibility I might see it on someone else's finger. Someone else having it, fine, but they'd better not let me see it...
I imagined the awkward situation it would be if I ran into someone with it. Would I say anything? Would it be my place to say anything? Would it really still be mine?
The concept of ownership can be fuzzy sometimes. Some people go by the adage, "Finders keepers..." while others do not. I'm finding it difficult to decide where I stand. Usually when I find something, I try to return it. But the thought of confronting someone with something I've lost made me question. What if they believe differently?
My dilema was solved as this morning when I found a post-it note on the bathroom mirror telling me where to come pick up my ring. Luckily for me, a nice lady had found it and believed that it should be returned. I have it on my finger as I'm typing and it's comforting to know that it's in my keeping again, at least until the good Lord decides otherwise.
I've always tried to live mylife according to the Christian concept of ownership, the idea that everything belongs to God and we're just temporary stewards. But this is easier thought than acted upon. Society places a lot of emphasis on ownership and it can be hard not to do the same. The idea of temporary stewardship is freeing in a way. I find having a lot of stuff can cloud the mind and thinking of it in a different way takes the load off I guess. I don't really know how to explain it.
This whole experience, although trivial in a way, has brought to my mind the importance I've placed on objects and things. I don't like the idea of objects holding emotional sway over me, but how do you disconnect memories from things? Will I forget if I get rid of the object? Are they a physical manifestation, a catalouge, of my memories? How can I free myself of this reliance on stuff if I'm afraid I'll forget?
Stuff to think about...
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