Losing something leads to finding more...

There's a truth to the subject line above, "losing something leads to finding more." One can wax philosophical about it all day long. The losing might be a loved one. The finding might be discovering a new way of life...

In my case, it was simply losing a screwdriver bit for my drill. The bit fell into the wood chips and bramble surrounding the pirate ship I'm building. I don't get much time to work on it, and I don't like blowing all that time looking for parts, going to buy supplies, trying to scavenge just the right--so I was duly frustrated when the bit fell from the drill.

In my growling around, one of my boys came to join me in the search. While I had to crouch and creak, he was down at ground level, resorting even to what he calls his army crawl. While I was angry and annoyed, he said it was like a puzzle or a "Where's Waldo" game. Taking notice of his attitude, I sat down in the chips and ran my fingers through them, taught him how to carefully sift instead of just throw the raw material around (hazard of throwing the bit out with the chips, after all). I was on his level and we were eye to eye talking about tools, pirates, puzzles, wood chips...

As the moment extended, we were joined by another of my sons, and I began to notice there was more than wood chips underfoot (well, under butt). The chip salad also included strands and striations, fiber and flotsam. We talked about how the chipper had done its job, and now how nature was taking up the task of decomposing the rest. We noticed the fine line between what was a wood chip and what was becoming dirt. We identified all manner of insects trooping and groping around in the chips, too.

Altogether, I was coming to appreciate why my other son spends hours digging with the enthusiasm of an archeologist all over our property, unearthing rusty bolts and (nearly) unidentifiable car parts. (The former owner was a mechanic and the one before him a farmer, so this place is rich in mechanical debris.) I was coming to enjoy that little stretch on my bum, yucking it up with my boys.

Eventually, I found a couple of lost screws, a nickle, and the lid to my WD-40.

I found the bit, too.

More importantly, I found a sense of wonder, and I found a moment in time with my sons. I found a way to convert anger to awe, and I think I'm beginning to find a way to make the most of the scarce resources I so often complain about in this blog.

Instead of stopping to smell the roses, I had to stop and sift the chips.