Lost...or Dormant?

I'd like to disperse a few thoughts. Maybe, in doing so, I can reconnect the fragments of my mind and find some clarity.

I've been charged with "following my bliss." Oddly, this has made me sad. Actually, it sparked, in me, a strong urge to cry--and to say that I cry easily is nothing short of an understatement. Maybe it was the weather--a cold gray. Maybe it was the nature of my environment--a parking lot littered with idle cars who, like me, were going nowhere. But for a while, I couldn't explain this urge; although, I instinctively knew from where it came: I've lost a lot of that spark that I once had. Not much holds excitement, anymore. Not much holds life. This I recognize. What, I fear, caused the urge to cry was the thought that, in all honesty, I am not sure when I lost it. That spark. That excitement for life. It's one thing to recognize that the spark is gone. It's another thing to not know when or why it has went dormant.

This is private stuff.

Dormant. Is this a shift from my proclamation of having lost my spark? This word seems less of choice as it does necessity. As of now, I have a desire to believe that this spark (my spark) has not left for good, but is instead only buried--somewhere deep within. Now, this would be an amendment to my earlier statement; thought, perhaps, not too much of one. I'll admit this. After all, what is the difference between "lost" and "dormant"? Are they two parts of one whole? Brothers--or, at the very least, cousins--in the great departure from the singularity of the found?

Ha! Listen to me: "the 'singularity of the found'"! What does that mean? Perhaps this is the problem in deed. Should I even consider the "found" as a singular body, when, in fact, it really is a conglomerate? Tiny fragments brought together by a concept of location. A location as spacial as it is temporal; but, then again, the two really cannot be separated, can they? Time is the space where experiences occur. Space, on the other hand, is a bit more tricky. Not only is it an expanse of Time, but it is an expanse without time. To say that Time expires in Space would be a false statement, because Time is Space; therefore, if Time expired in Space, Space itself would have to expire. I cannot accept this. However, similarly, while they may be seen as singular, there is nothing singular about them. Both Time and Space are conglomerate in their constitution. This, they share with the found. It is only in there appearance as a singular body that we seem to be able to understand them. By reduction--something we as humans seem to be very good at, by the way--we can find something onto which we can cling. So, returning to the notion of the 'singularity of the found', there is no singularity, per se, only an instance in an understanding--a reduction.

Then, it is from this reduction that I turn to the gap between the "dormant" and the "lost". If something is dormant, it can be reawakened. Similarly, if something is lost, it can be rediscovered. Or its potential can be re-found. "Re-found"? This makes sense. If something is lost, then that means that it was once found, or had. To say that something that is lost is found seems to me an oxymoron because the act of being lost assumes that a thing was previously in possession. To have something for the first time--or for a span of time--is to have found it. So, once it is rediscovered, it is not found, but, rather, "re-found". It is returned to its previous state found being found. Hm, while this may seem to throw a kink in the word's connection to "dormant", I believe the opposite is true. If something goes dormant then it had once been awake. If something is lost then it had once been found. Thinking about this, it seems that the greatest gap between the two is due to their reduction. Where dormant is a temporal displacement (or loss), lost is a spacial displacement (or loss). The reduction of the two, without connecting time to space, as was previously discussed, creates a gap in the understanding of each.

Reconnecting Space to Time allows the connection between dormant and the lost to be reunited because it becomes apparent that the two are parts of one whole. A dormant item is lost in Time, as a lost item is dormant in Space, while both span the conglomerate body of experience. Of life. Both, then, maintain an air of hope within them. The dormant always threatens to reawaken, while the lost always threatens to be rediscovered. Neither, ever the same as it was before its departure. Sometimes it comes back needing to be polished; sometimes it comes back with more vigor than it left. Sometimes...well, sometimes it waits for someone else to find it.

Now, how does all of this relate to the initial discussion of the state of my spark? Well, honestly, it doesn't really matter which word I choose (lost or dormant) because either way, it can be reanimated. With enough searching, enough prodding, enough diligence, and maybe even, enough time, I am sure it can shine like new...or perhaps, even brighter! And then, truly, can I begin to "follow my bliss".