Linked

Communities November 28 2009


With how many people do we each connect?

With what creations and what places?

Ideas? Values? Eras? Spirits?

I get a phone call from a friend

With whom I’ve had no contact over several months,

And yet we’re instantly in tune,

As though no time at all had passed, or

We’d spent the intervening time linked up as one.

We were each alone, yet fully present to each other.

I carry on connections with those who were close to my beloved,

As if I’d stepped into her shoes and walked along in them

Uninterrupted ,a single line of footprints in the sand for each,

And mine go forward from where hers had stopped.

I hear about my family’s Thanksgiving day,

Spent far away from where I am,

I sense the energy of babies bringing new souls to the group,

As spirits of those who’ve died or who are dying hover lovingly about the edges.

Over time, the children grow up, become old, and move along to other realms,

And yet the family group goes on, with new souls cycling in as old ones travel on.

We seem linked to many souls, to many groups – perhaps forever.

We know with them, we share our spirit sight,

Our hearts remain in synch, regardless of the distance or the years.





Reflection:

Over this holiday weekend, I’ve talked on the phone with quite a few relatives and old friends – both yours and mine, my Love. I’ve also spent time present with my children and grandchildren and with friends, neighbors, and colleagues. The multitude of close links that I have felt has impressed me deeply. Although I’m alone, I’m also not at all alone. I’m part of a chorus of souls, resonating with each other as the frog and insect choruses of midsummer proclaim with their deafening racket the endless network of creature connections.

It doesn’t appear to matter, actually, how far away we live from one another, or how seldom we see each other. We remain linked. Those connections remain solid, marching along in step with each other. We may see each other just once a year, at Thanksgiving. This is true of Mike, with whom we’d also shared previous Thanksgivings, but who doesn’t appear in our lives on the other 364 days of the year. He comes to be with us, is fully present, shares dinner and convivial spirit, then essentially disappears. He belongs here at Thanksgiving. He appears. We’d miss him if he didn’t. We perceive no gap in our relation to him. Our time together is continuously discontinuous.

There has also been a lively conference of connections in my memory over this holiday. The celebration evokes moments that have lain dormant but very much alive – they unfurl in glorious detail, feeling, and color, adding their vibrations to the physical scene.

Memories, resonances, and the present moment are as one complex panorama, filled out in muted grays and browns, pastels, and brilliant hues that blend beautifully together; melancholy, innocence, and gaiety harmonize in one vibrant whole.