The Deep End of a Missing Pool

At least once a week, I walk the campus of my local university — my alma mater.

Every. Week. Every single week.

This week, something stopped me in my (literal) tracks: The Olympic-sized swimming pool was MISSING! And from the looks of things, this wasn’t a recent development.

Had it not been for the sign, I may have questioned whether the pool had ever existed despite remembering the many years that I smelled the chlorine while walking by.

Naturally, I have questions:

1.      WHEN did this happen?!

2.      Has my self-proclaimed superpower of observance vanished like that Olympic-sized pool?

3.      Did my self-proclaimed superpower of observance ever really exist?

I’m troubled.

Why does a missing Olympic-sized pool have my bonnet in a bunch?

I’m not exactly sure. I never used it— not even once. I think, maybe, I took comfort in its perceived permanence, its familiarity.

The questions keep coming:

1.      What else have I missed?

2.      Have the people I “know” changed without my noticing?

3.      Should I give restaurants I previously disliked another chance in case their food or service “holes” have been filled in?

4.      Should I revisit destinations that I didn’t exactly enjoy? (Even Branson?)

I once read, “Don’t believe everything you think.” I think that’s good advice. Oh. Wait… I may have stumbled upon a perpetual loop in that line of thinking.

The Takeaway:

1.      Holes get filled in. Maybe even "holes" in people, places, AND things.

2.      Maybe it’s time for me to throw away my life’s carelessly formulated “cliff notes” and try to experience it without previous judgments.

So annoying. Do I really have to step out my front door, KNOWING that I don’t really KNOW anything or anyone?

If an Olympic-sized pool can disappear right before my very eyes, what else could have happened while I was asleep at the wheel?

Starting this second — I’m on a mission to see it ALL like it’s the first time.

This could be extremely exhausting or the best days of my life. I’m praying for the latter.