The art of losing isn't hard to master

I've been repeating this Elizabeth Bishop poem in my mind lately. With so many friends leaving and so many changes in general, I feel like lose is something I'm confronting almost daily. It's a lovely poem though. And sad. My favorite combo.

One Art by Elizabeth

The art of losing isn't hard to master; 

so many things seem filled with the intent 

to be lost that their loss is no disaster.  

Lose something every day. 

Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent. 

The art of losing isn't hard to master.  

Then practice losing farther, losing faster: 

places, and names, and where it was you meant 

 to travel. None of these will bring disaster.  

I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or 

next-to-last, of three loved houses went. The art of losing isn't hard to master.  

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster, 

some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent. 

I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.   

--Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture 

I love) I shan't have lied.  It's evident 

the art of losing's not too hard to master 

though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

This poem is especially fitting with my horoscope in today's Evening Standard:

"Ignore certain well-meaning souls who are trying to protect you. Their intentions are good, but they just don't understand how far-reaching the cycle of change you're currently experiencing will be. While you're short of facts, your instincts are making it clear that the most important accessory is an adventurous attitude."