What is lost will be found

"Pieces of Me" 
You don't know this new me; I put back my pieces differently. 

I’ve been opening my laptop today, thinking of writing my first assessment for the course I’ve just started. The course is "A year of writing to uncover the authentic self."  Each week, a new theme. The first week’s theme is roadblocks.

But as I open my file, I see a title I wrote down some time ago “ What is lost will be found.” 

Nothing else, just a title. And no matter how much I have tried to focus on the roadblocks, my mind constantly slips toward “what is lost will be found.”

Maybe it’s a better theme for the first day of the New Year, anyways!

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So, what have I lost over the years? What have I found?

I’ve found and lost love. Two marriages, two divorces, and three good men who shaped my life. 

I’ve lost my faith and found it again several times. I seem to lose it, it just slips away when life gets easy, and I find it again with a gasp when the going gets tough. How predictable. And how disappointing that after so many cycles, when I finally became aware of the phenomenon, I still can't hold on to it forever. 

I started life without too much confidence in myself, built it, lost it, and found it again many times. I've always been clumsy, no good at sports, and not capable of building anything with my hands. These traits are the ones essential in early childhood. The lack of them meant I was a failure. And then school started, and I discovered that if my body is not good, my mind can work. Math was my favorite class. Sports class was still the most dreaded one. But I have gained confidence and learned that there are some things I can do better than others. The teenage years came, and while I was already at peace with my lack of competence in sports, parties were the thing of the day, and dancing became a critical skill. My body's lack of coordination triggered another cycle of confidence drip. And then, after a while, it became apparent that most of the boys didn't care about my dancing skills; the 'ne sai quoi' in my eyes (?) was enough. The cycle kept continuing; there was always something I couldn't do as good as others, only to discover after a while that it didn't matter anyway. 

I've lost my home and found it again. Moving away from Romania and leaving behind family and friends hasn't been easy. I've been homesick for years. It took a long time to start feeling at home in Finland. And then I moved again, leaving behind again family and friends. The second time though, I knew we keep home in our hearts. Romania is still home. Finland is home. And now Seattle is also home. 

I’ve lost and found my desire to write, to create. Throughout my years in school, since I learned to read, I knew I wanted to be a writer. There was simply nothing better in my mind than being able to write stories that people will read when they want to escape into a more beautiful world. I chose to go into computer engineering instead. As a career choice, it made sense, but I was convinced I would still write stories and publish them. Years passed, kids were raised, and careers were changed. Finally, I had to admit that lists are the only thing I have been writing for a long while (and possibly the only thing I can write anymore). Hence I started to paint. What a wonderful surprise to be still able to express myself, even if in a very unexpected way. Interestingly enough, after a couple of years of painting, I found the desire to use words to complement the images. 

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What is lost will be found - it is cyclic. Nothing is ever lost forever or stays forever within us once found.

The thought of this cycle is both sad and hopeful at the same time.

Never lose hope that you are going to find what you’ve lost. Never think you are going to keep it forever. Be prepared to overcome the obstacles again and again. Learn, and improve yourself, but mostly – know that at the next turn of the road, some obstacles will be the same, and some will be completely new, but as long as you don’t give up – what is lost will be found. Always.

In the end, it looks like I’ve found what I needed to finish my “roadblocks” assessment.  

The distance of dreams

The distance between how I thought my life would be and how it came to be, I don't know to calculate it. 

I was born and lived my teenage years in communism. Money didn’t matter, friends did, and I believed it will always be the same. 

I am living across the ocean now in a country that made vows against communism. Money matter. Friends, I’ve lost plenty. 

I've dreamed of becoming a writer, of having just a little bit of talent for that. It turned out my mind was more tuned towards logic and math, rather than creativity. 

I became a software engineer and a teacher of algorithms. I am not teaching anymore. I can barely read a rudimentary code. But I paint. Creativity came later in life and in a very unexpected form. 

In my teens years I used to have a dream of myself living alone in a cozy little apartment downtown. Full of books, some paintings. I remember imagining how I would come back from work, dressed in a very elegant, usually black suit, high heels. Something similar to how a lawyer woman, partner at some big NY firm is dressed in Hollywood movies. 

I don’t think I have ever got to wear the elegant black suit with high heels at work. Jeans, t-shirt and sneakers have been my garderobe for work most of the days while working in software industry. I have enjoyed the comfort of it. 

There was no man and no kids in my teenage dreams. Only my cozy apartment in which I would relax in the evenings with a book and maybe a glass of martini. 

I have been married, twice, I've raised two kids and for many years I barely had any time to relax in the evenings, with or without the book. 

It has been a road with many unexpected turns, but I have finally got to my house, with all the books and the paintings. I am getting the itch of writing again. And it turns out, even in a world where money matter, friends matter even more. 

I am happy I didn’t choose the road I was planning to in my fantasy teenage world. I got the chance to learn how it feels to hold my babies, I got the chance to learn what complete love is. I got the chance to learn so much more than I have ever dreamed of. Sometimes following our dreams means limiting ourselves. 

Sanda / www.sandaberar.com

The story of my life in clip stories

 

The 5s without breathing.

He is asleep in my arms. I know I should put him in his crib, but I so need to feel him close. It’s my son’s first night at home. I lean and lay him down in the crib and go to my bed. My eyes are closing when my son’s breath stops: one second, two seconds. I’m on my feet. Three seconds, four seconds. This panic is something I have never experienced before. Five seconds. He is breathing again. And in that very second I realize that I will forever worry for him. There is no going back.  

The airport

I am waiting for my luggage to arrive. The belt is moving slowly, empty. I like the airport’s buzz, hearing the people’s voices surrounding me, it’s lively. Then I notice something feels odd. There is no buzzing. I look around, all the people are still there. I do not understand what is happening, are they talking, and I can’t hear, am I having a stroke or something? And then I know. This is Finland, the country I am just moving in. Life with the sounds and all I knew before is gone. I’ll need to learn to listen to silence.

I want to be happy now

My five years old daughter, she is a stubborn little one.  “Why you are not buying us a dog now” She is at the kitchen table and looks particularly decisive tonight. “We have had this conversation; we are going to have a dog when you will be old enough to be responsible for him”. “I don’t want to live my whole life wishing for something to happen in the future. I want to be happy today.”  I gasp. She is going to be the one raising me, not the other way around. 

Jump

I am sitting on the beach terrace in Crete. Phone rings, it’s from work. I can barely hear; reception is so bad. I am considering saying ‘sorry, let’s talk soon when I am in Finland’.  Instead, I move away from the terrace. I hear now. The Finnish branch is closing. We are being shut down. I have been offered a job at the headquarters in US. Can I consider moving to US?  I have been dreading a moment like this forever. Something comes around and I feel too scared to take a risk. Yes, I said. I can consider that.