Over the course of your relatively short life, you've encountered many references to getting lost. Most of them were, no doubt, a command shouted at you after you had started the family cat on fire. Maybe a few of you remember reading "Not all who wander are lost" as a line in one Tolkien's poems in the Lord of the Rings. And perhaps even more know of the now-finished television show whose star is currently in some legal trouble.
Most memorably, though--and certainly most profoundly--you've been familiar with getting lost yourself. You, a person, not knowing where or who you are. Life is punctuated by these moments of directionlessness at what usually end up being turning points. Becoming self-aware as a child is one of them. Attending an American high school is another. You can name the rest.
The funny thing about getting lost is the mix of feelings. In many people, the most pronounced are those of fear and despair. In others, those feelings are coupled with curiosity or anxiety. But in the wise, getting lost is less of a feeling of "loss" and is more often experienced as an opportunity to find a new direction.
So for those of you floundering, try this exercise. (It will help if you have access to an LSAT question.)
1. Tell yourself that being lost is not permanent.
2. Ruminate about what not feeling lost might be like.
3. Take some action, however apparently impotent, to not feel lost.
Before we jump into the LSAT-bit of this, just a few quick notes: You probably won't believe it when you tell yourself that being lost is impermanent. If you do, hooray! If not, fine. (Remember: people didn't believe the earth was round/Apple was a worthwhile investment/Ted Haggard was gay; i.e. belief means almost nothing.) Also, if you can't imagine what not feeling lost might be like, that's fine too. Don't let the second step drag you down.
The third step is important and we're going to look to the LSAT. When a student is confronted with what's called an LSAT Logic Game, there is an initial reaction of confusion. Letters, numbers, names, spaces, and places are rattled off in a short paragraph and followed by a set of rules. For example:
Ron, Tina, Molly, Thomas, Lars, Frank, Wendy, and John are planning to attend the Thursday night movies. There's an 8:00 show, a 10:00 show, and a midnight show. No more than four can attend the same movie at any one time, but no less than two can be in any one showing...
And so on. And we didn't even get to the rules part. The feeling of loss to a new LSAT student is big. Where do you start? How is this question useful to a law school? What lunatic came up with this? Why? WHY?!
The first thing the student learns is to write everything down. And the first thing the student thinks is, "Bullshit. There's no way in hell writing this down will help me." Then, after a week, it helps. And with time, the apparently impotent exercise of writing it down has the student solving the problem in under 8 minutes.
Some zen students might say that getting lost is the place where zen happens. Zen can't come to a place that is fulfilled and sedentary. Zen demands some wandering spirit and befuddlement. So if you're there and you don't know where "there" is, sit down, breathe, and enjoy the panic of not knowing where, who, or what the hell you are. But you need quietude of mind to do that. Maybe a bell will ring during your silence and you'll figure it all out. But, maybe not. And that's okay.