A Mystery of Life

Where on Earth did I put that thing? The question is posed in my mind, clueless as to where it is. Then, for no apparent reason, I go into the other room, and my eyes go to it.  I haven't really looked there, but my eyes go to it.  This happens enough to generalize that it is not me, in an intentional, thoughtful way looking for whatever, it is me on a deeper level knowing where it is and going to it.

And it doesn't have to be seeing it.  A misplaced tablet was recovered when, for no apparent reason, I slid my hand into the gap between the armrest and seat cushion of my recliner chair. Or my hand goes up involuntarily to the top of my head to locate my glasses which were, earlier, pushed up there and no longer even felt as being there.

Driving, late at night, in a downpour of rain in an area to which I had not been in years, I turned this way and that only to arrive at a recognized intersection that took me to my destination.  I didn't consciously decide to make those turns. Somewhere, deeper in my mind, there was memory of the area.

At the time of this occurrence, which was about 1958, St. Louis had more than 800,000 people in the city. Two friends of mine were in from out of town.  I knew they were somewhere downtown, the central business and shopping area, and I didn't have a clue.  It was afternoon, I got on the Lee Avenue bus and rode it to downtown, got off and simply walked among the crowd of shoppers.  Voila! there they were.

There are occasions when we are made aware, as opposed to thinking through.  It also happens when we are with someone.  All of a sudden, we are aware that something is off. We make an excuse to leave; when we don't the situation sours.

I am not proposing anything here, not analyzing.  I am reporting.  It's food for thought.

Update: 10/30/2026

Notice from Amazon that the dark glasses I ordered wouldn't be delivered in time for Sunday's photo shoot for the play, in which my character is blind.  The very first thought that I had was, Peddlers' Mall, to which I have not been for at least 5 years.  Wasting no time, I went there, walked through the front door and there, 20 feet inside, was a bin containing eyeglasses. In it there was one pair of extremely dark sunglasses that fit, $2 and less than five minutes.  Problem solved.