The Mysterious Case of the Missing Earring, where my earring disappeared for three weeks and showed up in a very unlikely place.
Or perhaps you read Am I a Poltergeist or a Halloween Freak Show? in which I detail the curious multiplication of a t-shirt dress that suddenly appeared years after I purchased only two of them.
Well, this story is even more mysterious than all of the others, because this time, I neither lost a pink towel, nor had I ever bought a pink towel.
However, now I own one, an old ratty and tattered pink towel. Why? Good question. Nobody admits to leaving it in my home. Not that I blame anyone. I would be ashamed to own such a towel. Admittedly I have torn and tattered towels I've owned for decades, but none of them are pink. This one must feel so lonely.
I believe it's all part of a conspiracy to force me into a state of delusion so that my family can have me admitted to a mental hospital. After all, what other type of human being would say something as ridiculous as a pink towel feeling lonely?
An old friend of mine who died a few years ago often commented to me about how every strange occurrence was supposed to be telling me something, and that I should look for the message behind everything: good, bad, or indifferent.
So I invite you to ponder with me the possibilities of a pink towel suddenly appearing in my home. What message does this mysterious pink towel bring with it? The towel is obviously old. I am on my way to old. The towel is pink. The color attributed to breast cancer is pink. Hmm, maybe there's something to this "finding the message" in everything.
However, the pink towel can't possibly be telling me I have breast cancer – I already know that. So what other message could it impart? That I need to take a shower? Already did. That I need to dry up? Hmm. Why would a towel be telling me I needed to dry up? Why would a towel be telling me anything? Does a towel SPEAK? Am I going crazy? Am I already crazy? See? The conspiracy is already working.
And why do stupid unnecessary items suddenly appear in my home? THAT is the real question. Couldn't the pink towel have been hundreds of green hundred dollar bills? Of all the things I might have hoped would suddenly appear in my life, a pink towel was not even on the list.
Then I think about how we draw things toward us by affirming and meditating about them. Does anything I've been affirming or mediating about even remotely resemble a pink towel? Come on – help me out here – what in my life could possibly be related to a pink towel?
I give up. But I'd like to leave a message to the poltergeist who frequently leaves things in my home, just in case he or she is reading this blog – think MONEY, MONEY, MONEY, MONEY...
The photo above includes the now clean pink towel folded among my other green, blue, white, and purple towels.