What does it mean to get lost, be lost, or feel lost? And why do we hold such negative connotations with these ideas? Rebecca Solnit explores these questions in her “Field Guide to Getting Lost” and I have pondered the concepts more and more each day here on the island.
In this 7th month of Living Chapters I am just now starting to do what I intended this project to do and I am beginning to feel like I’m actually letting go of the reigns and giving over control. It’s as if my environment itself has taken on the role of the chapter writer and is leading the process.
This month I have been asked to create my own field guide to the island of St. Croix. Chapter writer Ashley Duffalo and Wild Card Dave Schott both generously provided me with tools on how to create such a guide. They suggested I take walks, collect objects, record interviews, and make photographs. I am grateful for these guidelines. Following them has made me feel more grounded and has brought a bit of structure to my days.
Instead of an island field guide though, I feel as if I have begun to create my own personal guide for “being lost”. Adapting to a this new environment, has been an exercise in allowing myself to be ok with the feeling of not knowing where I am exactly or where I am going.
When dropped in a new environment either for a short time or an extended stay, I always gravitate toward finding the things that are familiar or that I feel comfortable with: a routine or structure. Upon arriving in a new place, starting a new job or meeting a new friend, I immediately want to uncover the unknown. I map out my surroundings, problem solve, or seek out answers to my list of questions. Although these are great survival instincts when encountering new situations, I do believe that rushing to solve all the mysteries and wanting to know all the answers right away is not the best system for me. I must allow some time for learning in the uncovering.
We all desire to work from the knowledge we possess or the set of personal reference points we’ve identified but I am finding that it is counteractive to rely on that knowledge. Why try to prove what it is that we know when there is opportunity to learn something that we don’t know?
If I truly desire to learn something new and navigate new territory, I must become at ease with the unknown. Navigating only with knowledge and reference points from maps I’ve drawn before will not help me reach new territory.
In Solnit’s “Field Guide” she comments on how getting truly lost has less to do with geography and more to do with questioning identity. Depending on how you look at it being lost can be a bewildering or a wonderful opportunity. It’s a time for one to “shake off the shackles that remind you of who you are, who others think you are” and allows you the opportunity to become who you want to become.
I’m taking my time, learning how to become lost here first before discovering every inch of the island. Letting go, I am not worried about knowing everything about where I am right now and trying to take the opportunity to work on learning about who I am right now.
I am still following my Living chapters guidelines though, tracking what I see, mapping where I walk, and soaking in my surroundings but enjoying it even more knowing that there is no wrong way of wandering when your quest is to become lost.
Grace Lichtner has been a great partner for experiments and expeditions into being lost. Below are photographs of plants, objects, and creatures that we found in the lost parts of the house, our backyard and the North Shore that have explored thus far.
All photographs taken by Grace Lichtner and Beth Barbush.