Straight from The Horse’s Mouth

Once, I loaned a very special book to a friend. I had underlined and highlighted passages and jotted notes in it's margins. I offered it to her while I ordered another that she could keep. I would get mine back. Months went by. She moved. I began thinking I would never see my book again and that I would lose the insight I had scribbled on it's pages. I contacted my friend to ask if she would send my treasure back to me.

Weeks later a package arrived in the mail. I was hopeful that I might see my notes. But it was the copy I'd ordered for her, not my book. I was mad. The crushing feeling that mine was lost forever fell on me. I found myself fuming and was astonished that this had happened to me.

The intense emotions surprised me. I am not a collector of things, not a pack rat, and I have little attachment to material goods. Over the years I have cleaned out closets and attics enjoying the feeling of lightness that letting go brings. She probably lost it in the move. Or it was a mistake, not a malicious act on her part. I'm certain she felt badly, and probably cringed at sending 'not my book' back to me. Surely she felt worse than I did.

There was no sign of my book, my notes, the narrative of the time I read this book 20 years ago. It was a loss, and I feared I would forget who I was back then because my writings were gone. After an hour or so of self-pity I remembered a story that helped me get over it.

Walking beside a wide river, the bank we are standing on is dangerous and frightening, while the other bank is safe. We build a sturdy raft to take us to the other shore. Having made the journey safely, we pick up the raft and carry it on our head there after. Would we be using the raft wisely? No. A reasonable person would know how useful the raft had once been, but wisdom would be to leave it behind and walk on unencumbered.

Hauling around possessions or even outdated ideas can be a burden. I thought my book was a link to my past, but in reality it was just a 'thing'. I needn't fear losing my belongings or my history. The only thing that matters is in this moment. Am I here now? Or am I moaning about an old hurt or worried about something in the future that may or may not happen?

Although I promised myself to be more careful loaning my books, I was able to forgive my friend completely and forgive myself for getting angry. It came and it went; like everything does. Such is life. Now I play around in thousands of books everyday. They arrive for a time and then they go on to new homes. It's the best job in the world. Come in and see what I mean. THM is the happiest hang-out in town.

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