An Incomplete Meditation on Connectedness
I am connected
to this computer
to this couch
to the sounds of the white noise machines in my kids’ rooms being carried through the speaker of our video monitor
to the buzzer on the drying machine and the great folding that awaits
to having brushed my teeth to avoid mindless snacking
to the pile of paperwork immediately to my right and all the past, present, and future that it represents
—-
to my mom, who emailed me today with teacher resources about the Las Vegas massacre and told me about someone she knows who lost someone they know
to my brother who worked in a hotel on the Vegas Strip many years ago and my other brother who didn’t
to my brother-in-law who just spent the weekend with us and the brisket we smoked while he was here, the leftovers of which I ate for dinner tonight
to my wife, who is out teaching tonight
to my entire family, to all my friends, even the ones I have to read about on Facebook instead of hug
—-
to the words of Torah that were chanted this morning
to the timeless values that they represent
to the teachers I met with today in various permutations and on various subjects
to the students that sang with me in our nature sanctuary this morning
and those that didn’t
to the people I missed today and the people I connected with
—
to Tom Petty, dancing between life and death, among the wildflowers
to Jerry Garcia, who died before Twitter and Facebook, but who sings over my speakers almost every day
to music
to sound
to breathing
to silence
there goes the drying machine
—
These connections break and mend my heart moment by moment
They obligate and liberate me
They teach me, outrage me, humble me, and remind me
To the extent that there is a me, they are me, and I them
Any meditation on connectedness that has a start and finish is necessarily incomplete
Both start and finish are made up points on a made up line
All that’s true is the unspeakably awesome truth toward which they direct my attention
Always a wordsmith and a poet. Your post made me feel connected to you as I could visualize the connections you describe. I could hear the buzzer on the dryer as I read those lines. I especially relate to you your statement that connections teach you, outrage you, and remind you. In some ways, this is similar to my opening paragraph on the same topic. We learn from our connections. We learn what to do and what not to do. We learn more about ourselves. What speaks to us and what does not. I enjoyed reading your post!
Thank you Stacy! That drying machine sound is truly memorable!!!
This was a fun stream of consciousness. I appreciate the different lens on connectedness as to that of our familial relations, passions, and the senses.
Thanks Drew. I am definitely reminding myself of the many connections that impact me as an educator and know you do the same!