A Lesson in Awareness

4 min readJul 15, 2021

One of my worst fears all of a sudden came true! My purse is gone — stolen.

A reenactment of where I likely left my purse hanging.

Now what? I think I left it here… no maybe there. I’m not sure, but I had it and it’s gone.

I’m franticly retracing my path looking for the last place I hung it up. There’s several potential places. I’m not sure. Now what?

I’m in a thrift shop across town. It’s a beautiful day. I was feeling good and now this — a sense of disbelief and then pent-up panic!

Why was I so stupid to hang it there? Why didn’t I remember to grab it before going on? What was I thinking? Did I expect any different?

I scan the room to see if I spot anyone familiar, because I vaguely remember a woman behind me earlier. She was my first suspect — she looked like she could be the type. I leave at that.

Maybe she didn’t like the idea/look of a feminized guy in a long skirt and a T top.

What I do know is that it was likely at this point, where my little black purse is hanging basically on display, that I last remember leaving it. I’ve been distracted looking through the shoes a couple of aisles over. So, it’s been awhile. Shit!

No car keys. Can’t call my son, because I don’t know his number — it’s programmed into my favourites on the phone that’s gone.

All my keys are gone too, so technically I’m now locked out of my own home.

Also my cash — gone! And I was out shopping for things I really needed, like the clothes in my hand.

How could someone do this?? To me!! Why now? What will I do next? Ok, I need to take some action — now.

Trying not to show my distress I hasten toward the front of the store. I start scanning everyone I see on my way. Is someone carrying it?

I quickly realize they would probably have it stashed. Or they’re already long gone.

The clerk is close to the exit and I make my way to her. I’m going to tell her what’s happened.

With a now tremulous presence I told her that I think someone has stolen my purse.

She stops what she’s doing, turns to me and tells me someone brought a small black purse to her a little while ago and it’s behind the counter.


Curating the garden of my being 🌈 Reading and writing are part of that process to me.