When we are lost, or when we have lost something, the mind keeps drifting back to all the points on the way before the losing. is this what the feel-good-club calls following your bliss? today i can think of three such moments, in random order: walking to portobello from richmond in the rain, all three hours of it, to say farewell to a passion laid to rest; driving in Calcutta, through the rain, to Sector V; Walking along Fredricksburg Road, the day after I arrived in San Antonio.
What is in common to them all? A new start. A new hope. A new goad. Recovery from heart ache or failure. Finding the courage to start again. But most of all, blissful ignorance that one more disaster, and one more heart-break lurked just round the corner, each more debilitating than the next.
Does life have an infinite capacity to recover and re-start? Perhaps, perhaps not. Sometimes, sometimes not. Like everything else in nature, its just a roll of the dice.