Lost

It’s funny how I can hear something many times, then listen again, and it is like I am hearing it for the first time.  The other day I was listening to something for at least the third time, and I heard something that had never registered before.  It happened again today.  I heard something for the first time though I had heard the song many times before.  It said, “the lost are making their way home.”
I know I am a sucker for that sort of thing, but I really love that picture.  Being lost is so disorienting.  Scary.  It is like home will never be arrived at.  Though surrounded by familiar things, all is unfamiliar.
I looked at definitions of lost and I do think Dictionary.com nailed it when it said “bewildered” as to place, direction.  The GPS cannot always be trusted.  A lot of people seem to have had a similar experience to Merril and I.  We were traveling back home from another town.  We ended up in a town and followed directions to the letter.  That is until we were facing grass and trees at a dead end with no-where to turn, and the GPS told us to turn (I do not remember if it was right or left.  I do remember though there was no right or left turn to be had).  It was at that point we decided to ignore the advice of the GPS and trust our own instincts.  That was much better for us, and I reckon had a better ending than it might have.
I know I’ve said it before, but I really like Pixar stuff.  I was listening to a song from the movie “Cars” while writing this and it really reflects this thought.  “Where you go through life, So sure of where you're headin',/ And you wind up lost, And it's the best thing that could have happened,/ 'Cause sometimes when you lose your way/ It's really just as well / Because you find yourself / Yeah, that's when you find yourself.
I guess that is saying being lost is a good thing if it ends in being found.  I got lost in Melbourne years ago.  I overshot the mark on the tram and walked back knowing I would see something familiar and find home again.  Walking back, I came across a shop that had something really good I got.
That was the weirdest trip.  I picked up a flu where I had been before Melbourne and left the family I was staying with in Melbourne in bed with the flu.  I left the gate open, and the dog disappeared.  Turned out someone found him and took him on holidays for two weeks and then returned him.  I had good memories of that trip, but I do not know others did.
All I know is that whenever I am lost, home is always a relief.  I love holidays, I love adventure. I do not love being lost.  The thing is, no matter how much I like or dislike where I am, I like home more.  Sleeping in my own bed feels good.  If I want a coffee, I know where to find it.  Although I may spend ages staring into the pantry and wondering what to eat, I like that it is my pantry.  Somehow there is something comforting.  It feels right.
For me, being lost is only ever ok when it leads to being found.