Spirituality Guide

When I was ten my grandma gave me a pair of small, round diamond earrings. The diamond earrings were set perfectly on top of a heart-shaped gold. There was a clip behind it that secured the earrings tightly to my ears.

It was beautiful. It was unique. Nobody else had a set of earrings like that. Others looked so simple. Mine was elegant. I was the envy of my girl playmates. It was a symbol of girlhood pride. And I basked under its glory. I was like an enamored suitor so attached to my object of affection.

Then one day, after I played outside our house, I was devastated to find out that one of my most-cherished earrings was gone! I went out to search for it. Certainly, I must have dropped it somewhere. So I searched every nook and corner. I even enlisted some of my friends to join in the search. Again and again, I went back to the spot where I played to look for the missing earring. All to no avail.

The next day I did the same thing. I searched the place thoroughly. Still, the lost earring eluded me. All my hopes in finding it had been dashed. The next few days passed like a nightmare. I cried most of the time. When I looked at my one earring, I would inevitably be reminded of the one I lost. My ears felt naked without it. I felt I had it for so long, it had become a part of me. It made me feel special. Without it, I felt incomplete. I felt undistinguished. In a way I lost more than an earring. I lost my self-esteem. I had identified myself closely to it that it was hard to be whole again without it.
As the days dragged on and the earrings still out of plain sight, I became frustrated. I was practically inconsolable. I was in no mood to play. Everybody was affected by my mood swings. Yet they were as helpless as me.

Probably part of the frustration I felt was due to the realization that I was helpless. I never felt helpless before. It was the saddest feeling I knew. The attachment I felt towards the earring made me felt powerless to control things. I also find it hard to let go of my loss. When you lost something so precious you hold on to the pain of the loss for as long as possible; because, in some weird way, you knew that it would somehow bring you closer to the thing you lost. The pain served as a constant reminder of the thing I lost. If I let go of mourning, it would tantamount to letting go of the earring completely. I was not prepared to do that just yet.

I refrained from going to the place where I lost my earring. It became a dreaded place for me. It served as a painful reminder of my loss. For days, I stayed inside the house. I played all by myself with my dolls. I dared not venture outside. I watched my other earring like a hawk. I kept it hidden in a safe corner that I knew. I was fiercely protective of my earring.

I was no longer hysterical. I followed a comfortable pattern by staying at home. My parents though were concerned. They believed it was abnormal for a child to stay at home most of the time. They encouraged me to go out and play.

Later, when days turned to weeks, there was a subtle change in me. I realized I could not go on feeling bad everyday for my loss. I had to learn to cope or I would never be out of the pit I dug myself in.

I began to accept my loss. My chagrin turned to acceptance. It was partly because time had healed the wounds. Acceptance was the key that helped me move on and get over my loss. I was able to face the situation squarely and knew I had done my best. There was nothing left to do.

I took the one earring left and I looked at it one last time. Then I put it inside my drawer vowing never to touch it again. Somehow the act liberated me. I realized that losing the earring had helped me in a way. I was so attached to it that my confidence stemmed from it. When I lost it, I realized, I can be confident on my own. Not in something I owned, but in my abilities, in my positive qualities. I knew I could contribute something positive to the people around me even without my earrings. The earrings only served to heighten the beauty that was already there. In short, it was not the source of beauty after all. It was my character, not a piece of gem, which allowed me to shine.

I made peace with myself and with my loss. Finally, I was able to put aside the unfortunate incident and moved on.