mocachapeau
Dagobah Resident
Last night, while I was in the sports center watching my son's soccer game, someone smashed the rear window of my car and stole my briefcase from behind the passenger seat. The most obvious lesson I learned was to never leave anything in the car, but there was something curious (possibly) about it.
I had parked on the street, across from the center, next to a small wooded area that had several paths going through it. As I was sitting at home thinking about it, I realised that the person who did this probably smashed the window, ran into the woods away from prying eyes, rifled the bag and tossed whatever did not interest them. In the briefcase I had the three sets of keys from my three places of work, a magnetic card for a few doors, about two years worth of non-negotiable pay slips (no home address, no social insurance number, no bank account number), a few useless papers (I hope they were useless), a very old copy of Ouspensky's The Fourth Way and a brand new copy of Riviere's Fulcanelli.
I went back to the woods this morning to see if I could figure out the most logical path this person might have taken, with the hopes of finding my books lying around. Sure enough, in a garbage can along the first path I had chosen, I discovered what looked like all my pay slips and the Ouspensky. Unfortunately the keys and security card were not there, and I didn't find my Fulcanelli. And that was the part I found curious : why the Fulcanelli?
Why would someone be interested in keeping that book, probably having no idea what it is, when they were not interested in the other book? Or is it just because it was new?
I thought about what happened in relation to me. That book was the only thing I lost that was of particular importance to me. Alchemy is the one subject that I haven't delved into yet because I wonder whether I will be able to understand it. But I had decided to give it a go instead of selling myself short. And no sooner did I begin exploring the subject than the first book I had was quickly taken away. What's more is the book came to me as a gift, sort of.
Maybe the only significance to all of this is the first lesson of not leaving things in my car. Then again, maybe I should get myself another copy of Fulcanelli, right away, and get down to work!
Is this just silly?
I had parked on the street, across from the center, next to a small wooded area that had several paths going through it. As I was sitting at home thinking about it, I realised that the person who did this probably smashed the window, ran into the woods away from prying eyes, rifled the bag and tossed whatever did not interest them. In the briefcase I had the three sets of keys from my three places of work, a magnetic card for a few doors, about two years worth of non-negotiable pay slips (no home address, no social insurance number, no bank account number), a few useless papers (I hope they were useless), a very old copy of Ouspensky's The Fourth Way and a brand new copy of Riviere's Fulcanelli.
I went back to the woods this morning to see if I could figure out the most logical path this person might have taken, with the hopes of finding my books lying around. Sure enough, in a garbage can along the first path I had chosen, I discovered what looked like all my pay slips and the Ouspensky. Unfortunately the keys and security card were not there, and I didn't find my Fulcanelli. And that was the part I found curious : why the Fulcanelli?
Why would someone be interested in keeping that book, probably having no idea what it is, when they were not interested in the other book? Or is it just because it was new?
I thought about what happened in relation to me. That book was the only thing I lost that was of particular importance to me. Alchemy is the one subject that I haven't delved into yet because I wonder whether I will be able to understand it. But I had decided to give it a go instead of selling myself short. And no sooner did I begin exploring the subject than the first book I had was quickly taken away. What's more is the book came to me as a gift, sort of.
Maybe the only significance to all of this is the first lesson of not leaving things in my car. Then again, maybe I should get myself another copy of Fulcanelli, right away, and get down to work!
Is this just silly?