Faith in humanity

I did something stupid today. Well, yesterday really. Something I don't normally do. Something my wife does occasionally. Well, more than occasionally, really. I lost something. When I travel, I have routines. I often rent a car from the same company. I stay at the Hilton family of hotels. I frequent the same airlines, when possible. I follow the same routine when I am in the airport, park in the same area, pack similarly, work out at about the same time, bring the same things to meetings. I plug my phone and my iPod in at night, and pack the plugs in my suitcase during the day; even if I am on a longer trip. Those kinds of things. I'm not sure if I do them out of habit, because it's a form of OCD, or because I am getting older, and quite possibly getting forgetful.

A lot of things about traveling are the same. The old adage, "same day, different shit" even applies for people who travel. For work and for pleasure. Obviously, pleasure trips involve more exploration and time for personal growth. But, essentially, the travel portion is alike. Which is why I try to stick to my routines no matter what the reason for being on the road.

When I go to meetings, I carry a small notebook holder. Inside the holder contains a small pad of paper for taking notes, business cards, drink coupons for Southwest airlines, various travel program enrollment cards, reminder scraps of paper. And a pen. Most of the other things I can do without. Most of the other things are replaceable. But, the pen, it was a gift. A birthday gift I received from Cyndi and the kids a couple of years ago. A birthday gift that they put a lot of thought into; that they contemplated would make me happy. And it did.

There's a level of routine in the use of pens too, I believe. When I am working at my desk and need a pen, I most often reach for my birthday gift. When I have an idea for a short story, or an essay, and I want to write it down, I don't feel right unless I use my birthday pen. It just feels right.

When I sat down to begin my day today, I reached into my backpack to retrieve the notebook holder. It wasn't there. I pulled everything out, and it still was not present. I looked in my suitcase, in my car, nothing. And then it hit me. I must of left it in Indiana. I must have left it in the activity room at the nursing home where most of my meeting was held. I knew it was gone.

Luckily, Nicole, one of my colleagues, was still at the facility today, for the final day of training. Thanks to technology, I was able to text and email her a request for help. I needed her to do a search. I grew anxious about the missing items, mostly about the pen. I was mad, as well.

Mad that I was careless. Mad that I misplaced important things. Mad that someone was going to get to enjoy my pen. I was certain that whoever found the holder, while might have turned it in, may have taken the pen for a reward. Like someone who finds a wallet and pockets the cash.

My faith, however, was restored today. My faith in humanity, that is. Not only was the holder located, but all of the items were intact. Including the pen. And while it might be as simple as no one even noticed it, I like to think that many people saw it and decided to leave the possession where it was. Someone, these Samaritans knew, is looking for these lost items. They are waiting to be found.