Chapter 1: The Search for Lost Items

Today, I misplaced my girlfriend's keys after returning her car from a tire fix. This minor incident led to a frantic ten-minute search, filled with self-reproach and embarrassment for my habitual forgetfulness. I was on the phone with Amardeep, who could hear the chaos between my girlfriend and me as we rifled through the car and its vicinity in a desperate attempt to find the keys.

I often find myself in this predicament — not that I believe I’m a failure in life, but I consistently misplace belongings. From essential items like keys and phones to trivial things like utensils, it seems like nothing is safe from my forgetful grasp. I’ve even asked, “Has anyone seen the remote?” while it was right in my hand!

Some might argue that I don’t value my possessions, and to some extent, they're right; I try to maintain a non-materialistic outlook. However, it can be incredibly frustrating when necessities go missing. Whenever I realize I’ve misplaced something, my anxiety surges. It’s an inner dialogue that tells me I haven’t made progress and am still repeating the same mistakes.

But why do we misplace our belongings? What lies behind this common occurrence? My research into the psychology and science of forgetfulness has revealed some intriguing insights. Men are nearly twice as likely to misplace their phones compared to women, according to Sumathi Reddy from the Wall Street Journal. A 2012 survey by a British insurance firm found that the average person misplaces nine items daily and spends around 15 minutes searching for lost items.

As Reddy notes, forgetfulness is a typical part of life. Citing Harvard psychologist David L. Schachter, author of The Seven Sins of Memory, she explains, “It’s the breakdown at the interface of attention and memory.” Stress, fatigue, and multitasking can all contribute to this breakdown. While I’ve often suspected I might have ADHD due to my constant misplacing of items, it’s essential to remember that losing things doesn’t automatically indicate a clinical condition.

The psychological mechanisms at play involve our memory systems. When we fail to activate our memory to encode where we placed our belongings, it leads to forgetfulness. The hippocampus, a brain region crucial for memory, creates a snapshot of our experiences, which can later be recalled with specific cues.

Interestingly, research from Dr. Sebastian Markett at the University of Bonn reveals that the dopamine D2 gene (DRD2) significantly affects forgetfulness. His team studied 500 individuals and found that approximately 75% carried a variant of this gene linked to increased forgetfulness.

Understanding that losing items is a common experience provides some comfort. I’ve implemented strategies to minimize my forgetfulness, like assigning specific places for my belongings — my phone in my right pocket, and my keys and wallet in my left. Yet, when it comes to my girlfriend’s keys, I often find myself at a loss.

In reality, losing things is a deeply human experience. It prompts me to adopt a spiritual mindset, reminding myself to trust in a higher power. I often repeat a mantra: trust God, as I believe that the keys will appear in their own time and place. Perhaps my perspective is too focused on the psychological aspects, as Kathryn Schulz from The New Yorker points out, “Life is complicated, and our minds are limited. We lose things because we are flawed, because we are human, because we have things to lose.”

As we search for lost items, we instinctively ask questions: What happened to it? When did I last see it? Such inquiries guide us in our search. However, I tend to blame myself for these lapses. Although this self-reflection can foster personal growth, it often leads to harsh self-judgment.

The frustration of losing something stems from a loss of control. Schulz articulates this beautifully: “Losing things, even trivial items, can be so upsetting. It confronts us with a lack of order and the fleeting nature of existence.”

While losing a phone is trivial compared to losing a job or a loved one, it does remind me of life’s transience. I would much rather misplace my phone than face the devastating reality of mortality. Elizabeth Bishop’s poem “One Art” encapsulates this sentiment, suggesting that loss is an inevitable part of life that we must learn to accept.

“We lose something every day. Accept the cluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent,” she writes, drawing attention to the deeper meaning of loss, especially when it comes to losing people.

Schulz reflects on the permanence of loss when it comes to death, recognizing that it’s a “loss without the possibility of being found.” She shares the poignant story of her father, who was often forgetful. When he passed away, she grappled with the concept of loss on a far deeper level than any misplaced item could ever represent.

She concludes with a meditation on the evolving meaning of the word "lose," which has transformed over time. Originally signifying “to perish or separate,” it has broadened to encompass a range of experiences, from losing our minds to losing loved ones.

This exploration of loss reminds me to cherish the people in my life — my family, friends, and loved ones — while they are still here. I frequently misplace items, but the most valuable treasures in my life remain intact. For that, I am profoundly grateful.