Stolen Camera – A Lesson in Detachment
Well, I must admit that having my camera stolen a few days ago provided a wealth of contradicting emotions, but it’s much easier to take it in stride by thinking of it as a lesson in detachment.
How My Camera was Stolen
Honestly, this has to be chalked up to being my own fault. I mean I wasn’t really begging for it by committing many of the steps outlined in the how to get robbed 101 – crash course recently posted, but was certainly guilty of a few.
First of all and most importantly, I left my camera in what must be considered to be a thief-bait pocket. In the past it’s actually a pocket that I’ve used to put seemingly valuable things (empty wallets, shiny knick-knacks) whilst taking a gander through areas rumoured to have many a pick-pocket in order to see if anyone would manage to grab something without my noticing. Turns out that they could… who knew?!
Secondly… very touristy place (monkey temple in Kathmandu) whilst being conspicuous with a devil-may-care attitude. For all I know one of the monkeys was offended and decided to teach me a lesson. I probably deserved it and most likely was so unaware of my surroundings that such a ‘lesser primate’ would’ve easily gotten away with such a white collar crime!
I haven’t had anything stolen in about 5 years…
The last thing I had stolen was actually when I was back home in Canada and forgot that tourists who come in for weekend festivals don’t always respect the ‘leave your keys and wallet on the front seat of the car’ motto that I like to live by whilst in my home town… I know you might be thinking that I’m a little too trusting, or too naive, or too unwordly… but come on, I park in the middle of nowhere in friendly ol’ Canada. If you go into my hometown, and see my car parked on the street, you’d have to admit that it’s just too homely looking to bother stealing from. Go check it out, the street address where I park is 101 dirt road, off of dead end street, Middle of Nowhere, Western Province, Canada… see that little blue Mazda with the open doors, keys/wallet on the seat… really, would you steal from that?!
I have to admit that in the immediate aftermath of this highway robbery, this premeditated put-up job, this elegant crime I felt like a victim… I mean I felt like a guilty victim, but a victim nonetheless. I loved that little camera. It’s been with me through thick and thin.. it’s been 16 meters deep in the water proving that it’s warranty for 10 meters was conservative; it’s used a pile of snow as a tripod and sat there patiently for half an hour while my sis, her husband and I tried to make the perfect natural cross country skiing pose; it’s been thrown, dropped and stomped on, sometimes all in the same night; it’s seen it all. I only hope that whoever has it now respects it as much as I did… and really hope that they realize it’s a ‘lifeproof’ camera and thus needs to be pushed to its limits.
I’m a little ashamed to tell you that it took a couple of hours for me to kick the victim feeling and realize that in reality the monkey who went out of his way to come out of the tree and take a gander through my pockets was really just helping me become a better person. You see, even monkeys can tell when we start to become to attached to our material possessions. (it was probably when I stopped to take a picture of the monkey who stole an antique dagger).
So, I guess what I’m saying to Mr. Monkey in a tree out there is thank you. Thank you for taking the time to help me become a better person. Thank you for teaching me to let go. Thank you for making me realize that life isn’t about the possessions that I carry, it’s about the experiences and the photos that come with it. Thank you for helping me realize that life isn’t about the photos…
And thank you that much more for sending me back the photos, as I’m sure you’re about to do that, and have just been wondering how to contact me… Well, I leave my car parked in this little hometown in Canada… doors are unlocked, keys and wallet on the seat.
I know there’s not many monkeys in Canada, so why don’t you put all the photos and videos onto a memory stick and send it via sea turtle to the west coast, and then get a salmon to carry it up the river, getting it into the hands of that black bear that can open car doors.
PS… next time you are looking to try to help someone lighten their load, here’s how to tell when someone has properly mastered how to get robbed.
No rush, you’ve got some time, I’ve still got a big world out there to see… but thanks again for the lesson in detachment by having my camera stolen.