#203: The Lost Objects
How do you find the objects you’ve lost?
I am without an object. In fact, today I was without many objects. First I lost my Old Norse dictionary, then I lost my phone. Then I tried to find my creative writing journal, to no avail. I have been waiting for my tape measure to appear for months, and my treasured childhood watch still neglects to show itself after 10 years of waiting.
These lost objects remind me of the Room of Requirement. Of the goblins who only ever steal your left socks. Once an object seems to be inexplicably out of sight, it enters the realm of fantasy, magic, and out-of-this-world explanations. Anything to say that it’s been taken by the Borrowers, or gone walkies of its own accord, rather than admit that, at the ripe old age of 22, I can’t remember that I put my phone down in my open sock drawer just two minutes ago.
Of course, I could call my phone to find it — but I always seem to put it on silent just before I lose it. And no matter how many times the not-so-awake part of my brain suggests, no, I cannot ring my favourite shirt, or search for my favourite notebook on the document search bar. Like when I move from GoogleMaps to a paper map and I try to pinch-zoom the paper, I cannot stop my brain from its auto-pilot reliance on technology to solve every problem. Instead I must, after searching the same bag for the tenth time, simply sit, and think, and ponder, and try and remember just exactly where I last took a sip from my cup of coffee before I put it down into the abyss of lost things, because the only resource I have left to call on is my busy, busy brain, the cause of this predicament in the first place.
I remember reading somewhere that if you say the object’s name out loud, it helps your brain spot it — or maybe this is just me personifying my objects again. This interruption of mystery into my otherwise uneventful day always causes me to become creative. I am transformed into a detective-in-the-making, trying to think of the smallest details which might become the clue I’m looking for. I will scour the house, look in every nook and cranny. I will lift up every pillow, every blanket, every sofa cushion, no matter how futile these actions may seem — for often, lost objects re-appear in the most unexpected of places. And when I do find one, I shout “Aha!”, like the “Eureka!” of an inventor, filled with pride at the excellent re-discovery of my favourite fluffy sock.
I am sure I am not alone when it comes to the remarkable mysteries of missing objects, of the inventive antics which result in the search, and the (sometimes) miraculous discoveries. I know I am not alone, for there are too many stories about lost treasures, misplaced manuscript pages, and submerged cities. These are big, grand objects, but I am focussing on the small, the seemingly mundane but very important things which fill our lives every day, of which there are equally entertaining stories. Perhaps there really is a place where all missing objects go to hide. Or perhaps I need to start remembering to check my head, before I start searching for my glasses.
Katie writes a weekly blog post about random objects that she finds in her everyday life. If you’re interested in reading more, check out her blog Object, a collaboration with fellow Medium blogger Eleanor, and sign up for the monthly newsletter (containing exclusive content) below. You can also follow us on Twitter at @ObjectBlog.
