The Earring, The Epiphany, and Everything in Between

Have you ever searched for something relentlessly? I mean tore up the house looking for it—moved couch cushions, checked every drawer, flipped bags inside out—because you just knew you couldn’t move on until you found it?

I remember once losing an earring. No idea where it went. I checked all the usual spots. Nothing. But I never threw the other one away. I couldn’t. Something in me kept hoping it would turn up. Years passed. And then one day, when we were living with Joe’s grandmother during a house remodel, I was packing up our things to move out. I bent down to grab something from the closet floor and there it was—something sparkly caught my eye. Well, I’ll be… It was the missing earring. Apparently, I lost it when we were moving his grandparents into their new home.

I wasn’t even looking for it. In fact, it almost felt like it found me.

The other day, I put that reunited pair on and thought, “If I’d given up hope and tossed the solo earring, I’d still be missing something.”

Late-Lee, life has me thinking. I spend so many hours on the road—school to school, county to county—alone with my thoughts and the hum of tires on pavement. Sometimes, I ask myself, “Am I truly living the life I’m supposed to be living?” I have a beautiful life. I really do. So why does that question still echo in the quiet?

There’s this quote I heard recently by Confucius:

“We have two lives. The second begins when we realize the first will end.”

Whew. That one stopped me in my tracks. Because the truth is—I’ve lived more years than I have left. And that’s not said in sadness, but in gratitude. I know how blessed I am to have made it this far. So many don’t. That’s why I’m not ready to toss away this season, either.

I think maybe midlife is its own kind of search. Not frantic, not desperate—but persistent. We’re not just looking for lost earrings anymore. We’re searching for purpose, for peace, for alignment. And just like that missing earring, maybe it will find us when we’re quietly gathering ourselves and moving on to what’s next.

I’m not in crisis. I’m just curious. And that’s okay.  No need for an intervention. 

So I’ll keep holding on to the parts of me that still sparkle—even if they’ve been tucked away for a bit. I’ll stay open to whatever’s next, trusting that the pieces I need—purpose, peace, or maybe just a long nap and a good laugh—will show up when I least expect them. Because sometimes, the missing thing really does find you.

And if it doesn’t? Well, I’ve got a great pair of earrings and a story worth telling. That feels like enough for today.