Lost First, Found Later

   When your upsides go downside your insides come outside.

   I heard that line in church last Sunday, and I think it relates extremely well to one of our sub-discussions today; the matter of finding and losing oneself in art. Art, good art, confronts and challenges. It may not confront everyone, and not every piece will challenge you. Sooner or later you should find one that does. (If not, reassess your reading habits.) What happens in the process of disorientation and relocating direction? Let's break it down.

   Other than the art and your eyes, you need to begin with a basic understanding of what direction you are facing. You are sure of where and how you stand, and this is important. These are your upsides, and they determine how you see what is before you.

   Next, the art challenges you. You begin to ask questions. When you ask questions, it is because you don't know the answer. You are questioning your stance. If the piece is particularly baffling, you may even look for a compass. Your upside has now changed direction. This is the downside.

   Your insides are your character; convictions, history, emotional status, thought pattern. These get tossed about a bit and may fall out. This can be painful. You now have three options. One: leave it on the floor and walk away. This is going to leave you without some essentials and you won't live much longer. Two: pick it up and stuff it in and hope nobody saw you falter. This leaves a tangled mess that you can learn to cope with, but consider choice three before you decide to endure it. Choice three is this: look at what you are picking up. Do some science. Figure out where it came from, why it's there, if you need it, if it needs mending, or if it was in the wrong place to begin with. Asking these questions is the process that leads you back to yourself.

   "Pain is weakness leaving the body," a camp counselor told me once. Ironically, I broke my arm a few minutes later. Instead of trying to act like it was all good, I panicked. It hurt and I was scared. I asked God to show me how I was to grow from it, and He delivered. I didn't look for that pain, but I am so glad it happened.

   How do you handle confrontation? Do you see it as an opportunity to understand better who you are and why you are this way? Or do you try to stay cool even though you know you need some reorganization but are afraid of the pain? It is the lost who have hope. Those who know where they are have no use for it. You have to be lost before you can be found.