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April 18, 2011

We’re all in this together.
There is a quiet refrain welling up throughout the whole of the earth…
it is our very breath filling up lungs and releasing, dispersing, circulating
inside and out. We’re the same; I feel that commonality pulling me into you as you are taken in by me.
I can often, in the most unplanned moments feel the closest knit ties to strangers as I watch them from far away, preoccupied in their own comings and goings.

We all want to just spin around silly sometimes don’t we? We all laugh till we cry and sometimes liquids shoot out of noses at jokes or expressions that transcend culture and language barriers.
There is no issue or wrongdoing that is too great to keep me from understanding your human condition as you comprehend mine.

Don’t we all need to dance and move and scream?
And you drink your coffee and dream about vacations to unknown places while still stressing over your work as I contemplate my relationships, stuck in traffic, worried about budgeting.
And it’s all the same really, when you get down to the minute bits of yourself. You feel. And so do I.
And I think we’re both so scared no one understands that or sees it. And we’re united, no matter what medium it comes through.
And I love you. And deep down, somewhere, you need me too.

I still catch myself looking up when a plane goes overhead… thinking of where it might take me.
Maybe it’s somewhere you are, or have been, or want to go.
Either way, I’ll meet you there.
And you’ll find me.

We’re all in this together.
I don’t feel our differences.
We all struggle.
We all dance.
We all fight.
We all die.
We all eat.
We all giggle.
We all love.

And I can’t see the difference between anyone now.
And I like it that way.
It makes me hope.
It’s that thing, you know, that pushes inside your chest, and then you catch yourself smiling.
And then you realize you’ve been walking around lost in your own silly musing, and goodness knows
what kind of expression you’ve had on your face for a little while now.
We all get embarrassed. And I love discovering our similarities.

We’re all in this together.
And I breathe on.
I breathe.

Family is something that each of us need. It offers protection from the outside world, a world that never understands or appreciates what makes us different. There are others like us out there, shadows in the light. Each grasping for meaning in a world that won’t accept them for who they really are. They, like us, are blessed, gifted with extraordinary abilities. And they, like us, struggle with finding their place in an ordinary world. Haunted by their past and those that would haunt them to keep them from their destiny. Every one of them deserves a chance to be who they really are. But to what end…? For what purpose…? Here in this place, we offer salvation. We offer hope. We offer redemption. And one by one, they will come to our side, to our family. And they will find their way home. And all who have gathered will be strong. And all who have gathered will stand in unison. I say it’s time we found our way back home again.

2 Comments leave one →
  1. Elizabeth permalink
    April 18, 2011 4:46 pm

    I love this post.

  2. April 18, 2011 7:44 pm

    Brilliant, as always. And now for a laugh.
    My husband and his father usually spend Saturday mornings together. My husband arrived home around 11:00 am and we set off to do some shopping to satisfy spring cleaning projects. About a mile down the road, I realized Rick and his father must have been quite active during their outing because the man had CLEARLY pitted out! I nonchalantly rolled my window down but I eventually had to face the reality that I would be in close contact with “old smelly” in a number of retail environments. I finally told him that his scent was a bit skunky, and he took a perfunctory sniff of the bacteria riddled playground under his arm.

    By this time we were too far away from home to turn around and I suggested he use hand wipes as a temporary fix. Alas, the hand wipes had dried up and we stared at each other like deers caught in headlights. That’s when it happened.

    I needed to stop by the craft store to pick up a couple of items and I suddenly pictured myself purchasing craft glue and a container of potpourri. Next I envisioned Rick perusing the aisles of Lowe’s, arms held slightly apart from torso, getting horrified stares as he crunched with every step. ;} It struck me as so funny that it took me five minutes to be able to breathe, talk, or move (beyond bending forward belly laughing and gasping for air). I used two tissues to wipe all the tears off my face. I was certain Rick was going to call an ambulance. He got quite a good chuckle out of it once I was able to convey my vision. We finally rehydrated the hand wipes and then I had him apply some lavendar lotion I had in my purse. He was almost pleasant to be around for the rest of the afternoon. ;}

    Write on, Jen. ;}

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