...how we cleave and sunder, cleave and sunder--
Today I was in the throes of post-workshop blues, and missing people I haven't seen in years, and missing people I barely know, and feeling generally disconnected. I went out (by myself) to Third Street Park for Carrie Newcomer's annual free concert in the park -- always fun, with kids and dogs and picnics and hot air balloons drifting overhead and fireflies rising up out of the grass, and good music. I met a six-month-old black Lab pup who made me smell like puppy kisses.
So I was sitting in the park, listening to Carrie play. I looked around at people I know, and people who probably know people I know, and people I'll probably know someday, and people I don't know at all. And all of a sudden I thought, the sweetest connections are the ones you don't necessarily have to call on -- it's enough to know they're there, on the other side of the park or the other side of the planet, listening to the same music, under the same sky. It's enough to know they're there. And my heart filled right back up again.
And then the fireflies started rising up out of the grass, and I waited for a star to come out so I could wish on it, and it did, so I did.
"...wrapped in hope and good intentions, bare to the bone."