All it took was deeply searching my mind. And then a little help from my friends. After following my delusional thoughts down that dark rabbit hole yesterday, I got the opportunity this morning to share my awareness of mental storytelling in a group of fellow mindfulness students. How throughout the search I was able to observe in real time how we make up stories and then we come to believe them: first, it was that I had put it somewhere safe, but after a long and thorough search of every possible nook and bag and cabinet failed, I gradually ‘remembered’ another story: I’d given it to its maker to clean up the tarnish; but that one didn’t pan out either.

Then I generated a vague recollection that, I gave it to somebody because it looked better on her than it did on me. Really? That precious thing? And then Mind suggested, Maybe I loaned it to someone… yeah, I kind of remember that, and I said ‘Be sure and bring it back!’… Even as these vaporous ‘memories’ arose over time I received them with skepticism and good humor. None of them appeared to be accurate. So I decided to go fishing in the sea of possibility with a little ‘wanted poster’.

I told them how yesterday, working with the photo, my mind made up another story that seemed plausible. And it took me off the hook for not remembering what I did with the necklace. Because in this story, I didn’t do anything with it. Somebody stole it. As Mind told the story, I could see so clearly how all the pieces fell into place, that if he could lie for three solid months then surely he could steal, that this must be what happened to it. I was simultaneously aware, from outside the thinking mind, This is a story that I’m making up and it has no basis in reality. I noticed as I told my friends about observing this new tale emerge and grow, that the telling of it, even though I didn’t want it to, was reinforcing it. Real-time observation of active cognitive distortion.

I also told them how simply sharing the true story of the perfidious Lothario retriggered my feelings of shame and hurt; but how mindfulness practice has diminished those feelings, and fostered compassion both for myself and for the sickness in him that drove his unskillful behavior. They were eager to help me find comfort, and find the necklace. P asked if I might have put it in a suitcase, and told a horror story about finding some long-lost jewelry in a pocket of a suitcase just in the nick of time before it was hauled to the dump.

I no longer own a suitcase. But that did make me think about a woven duffle bag I used to travel with, so this evening I went out to the Mothership just to look inside the duffle bag. Imagining that if it were folded flat I might not have shaken it out. Well, there was no duffle bag in the Mothership! But I decided to toss all the cabinets again, even though I’d thoroughly searched them already. It was dark, so instead of just looking in, I had to reach in and feel through everything: towels, books, and in the third cabinet, just a few t-shirts — but underneath them — the second my fingers touched the soft velvet, Eureka! As I gathered the small bag into my hand and felt the weight and texture inside, I started to laugh. My very first story had been the only true memory, but when it failed to produce the necklace the busy mind manufactured false memories, just trying to help.

Back in the house, in the light, I pulled it out of the bag and gently smoothed it into shape, giddy with joy, relief, and so much gratitude. Gratitude for finding it, of course; followed equally with gratitude for all the fruits of the practice that had guided me during the search: patient perseverance, not believing random thoughts, not attaching to imaginary stories, not taking rash actions, not obsessing over things I can’t control but methodically investigating what I could, keeping a healthy perspective, letting go of attachment to outcome, and the list goes on.

I’m grateful for grateful for caring and supportive friends, grateful for a sense of humor, grateful for Michelle’s confident (and accurate!) vision of a soft dark bag just waiting to be found, and grateful that I can now turn The Necklace over to her to display in her show opening Friday, May 31, at The Cirque in Paonia. To see more fabulous creations from this exceptional artist, check out her website, life of riley designs.