I was a bit under the weather, popped 2 ibuprofen before I went to bed and proceeded to dream strange dreams all night. The one I remember the best was the dream of blogger comments. It went on for miles, well, not really miles, but a long flowing waterway of comments. A river of people. I don’t remember why there were so many, I only remembered scrolling down, reading comment after comment, down, and down. Mostly I think this was a dream of people, the connections we make in life, the way we come together or come apart.
The same extraordinary connection of people sometimes meanders like a small stream into real life. Today I had the chance meeting with someone new, and in the midst of conversation, he turned out to be the younger brother of a good friend from another town. We both dropped our jaws at the way the amazing world is really so very small. (This reminds me of line from a movie (Casablanca) “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, [he] walks into mine.”) Why and how is it we feel the need to connect again and again?
manageable imaginations 
We must connect again and again because we are all part of each other. Each part is a part of each other part; we all are a part of one another, says my friend, Carolyn.
From the time we leave the womb, we are lost, and grow into our lives wondering why we feel something, or someone is missing. And so like the little bird in P.D. Eastman’s, Are You My Mother? we seek to connect, and reconnect. Perhaps.
Beyond seeking, it does happen unexpectedly sometimes, doesn’t it?
A few years back a boy who broke my heart when I was 18 and living in Saskatoon emailed me after stumbling across my blog. We’d known each other two decades earlier when I was living in Saskatoon. He emailed me when I was living in Sault Ste. Marie, just moved there with my family from Yellowknife.
Turned out he and his wife had been living in Yellowknife the whole time we were there. Not only that, but they’d lived one street over from us, and in the same block. Not only that, but I remembered seeing his dogs (he sent pictures). He and his wife walked them daily past our house. They were beautiful beasts (the dogs, not the people), and I only ever looked at them, and not the man and woman with them. Funny, huh?
B-): In a way I believe I understand the conncections you speak of. Which I also believe is a reason we go to colony, to be part of a whole.
Anita: It’s amazing that you didn’t notice the man and woman. Would that reflect your mindset at the time? Contentment with your own life?
Maybe chance meetings and connections aren’t accidents. Maybe we create them when we’re feeling like we need more contact?
Hey Tracy, maybe it means there is room for only one lover in my life — writing.
Oh! I meant to say “Jim” Is it too late to say “Jim?” Mmm…how about AND Jim?
Ah, two great loves! I’d say you’re lucky then.
“Connectance” is currently a topic of much research in ecology, and, of course, has long been studied and developed as a science in its own right. Interesting, because many cultures have always understood this is how things work; how everything is. It’s one of the main reasons I don’t much believe in coincidence. Of course, if you’re a hard determinist, there’s no coincidence at all — and free will’s a problem. Sometimes I think it gets all too hard; impossibly hard. So, I just relax; kick back and delight in my own confusion, and continue to enjoy connecting — with people, other lives, the world where I/we live: everything, I suppose.
Whew, I am feeling philosophical this morning…
Good post, Tracy. Plenty to think about — and enjoy.
Thanks Pete. You may be philosophical, but your comments are always delightful to read.