Connectivity

I flow into the room thinking others will not notice me, but this is a fallacy because I am connected to all living things and by my presence cause a reaction in others whether I want to or not. Who can say what responses my presence will cause in the grand scheme of things. A hurricane, a leaf blown upon the wind or a hand caressing the cheek of a child.  Influences we do not see, cannot know, but they are real nonetheless. Connections which cause us grief, cause us pain, cause us tears.  Yet, we say to ourselves, "I will not get close. I won't let myself be hurt." As if we have control, as if we could mold and shape time, others, everything. We are the dots on the page connecting you to me and us, together, to eternity. Connectivity--the unending force--drawing us into motion, into life, into an ever-moving social ocean of currents and undercurrents rippling and raging through our everyday lives. Where does it begin? Where does it end? And will we take it with us when our time here is finished? It is part of the pattern, part of the notion, part of the equation fueling life's emotions.  It is the strategy, the tactic, the ongoing, unwritten rhyme taking us on our journey through space and through time--they wind us, waft us, and winnow us down--often making us feel as if we were drowning. So, what are the connections holding you fast? Are they real? Are they meant to last? Who can know for certain, except to say, "I know that in Hell, they are part of the fray, but I hope, in Heaven, they will remove or refine all those sharp edges which severed all my connections before I lay down and died." Connections are needed, necessary, and nebulous--in fact, they are the only thing keeping us here.  For without these connections, no matter how bad, we wither and die or just go quite mad.  Just look at the man who killed out of dispair, he had no connections keeping him whole and sane.  He walked into a gym and opened fire--destroying connections he could not share.  So treasure your connections, no matter how strange--for who would you be without the connections of which you complain.