I know people write all the time about the influence of other people on their lives, and we all know the idea that our brief time together with someone is very insignificant in comparison to the only slightly less brief years of our lifetime. But I don't think we realize just how many people we touch and touch us. The world we live in is so filled with human lives, both as physical bodies walking before us and standing in our television screens and as disembodied voices in the words we read and music we listen to.
Just picking up a book raises the thought that the words before you were once in someone else's mind. They were held there and grew until they were strong enough to be released onto the paper. And now they're cycling back, up from the paper through your pointed finger that follows the lines and into your eyes, moving back and forth, up into your own brain and your own thoughts. And at night, when you're about to go to sleep, you think about those words, quote them in your head, the voice of another you never really knew speaking silently from within you.
Sometimes I get this funny feeling after getting back from a night of swing dancing. The faces of all of my dance partners, dark and vague, will flash through my mind like a faded film reel. I think of all the hands that held mine, that pressed their traces against my back and shoulders and waist. I never remember their names, but it really doesn't matter. I walk around carrying the remnants of them on my clothes for the rest of the night and the weight of such connection, such company, makes me feel so surrounded by life.
And then their are times when I meet someone and feel a complete affinity with them. Obviously it's not straight away. Perhaps I meet them through mutual friends and see them now and then. Or I hear stories about them from someone else I know and get this urge to know them too. You think these people, who often seem so much like you that a relationship and a knowing of some sort is inevitable, must have a purpose in your life. And then, for whatever reason, they step out of your everyday life. Usually we think of death as the culprit in this situation, but it doesn't have to be as dramatic as that. It can be as simple as a change in location or class or schedule. Our lives change so much and there is an endless cycle of new faces pushing out old ones that comes along with that change. And from these brief glimpses of people I get this longing feeling. If only I had known them for a bit longer, if only I had gotten more of a chance to talk to them.
I'm sure this all sounds a bit melodramatic, but I think it's something we all experience at some point. I'm not sure why life chooses to rope us together with some people and not others. I'm not sure what they mean, these fleeting, teasing glimpses of people we feel connected to but will never know. I can't even say what to do about it. Most people say to make the most of every moment and to not take anyone for granted, but sometimes there is really nothing you can do to remedy the feeling of missed opportunity. I can only say that there are billions of faces and voices in our lives everyday, every minute even. People are so commonplace. We're everywhere, always in contact with one another, always clumsily dragging our feet across the lines of other peoples' lives without even meaning to. It's a both a comforting and a suffocating feeling for me because it really is impossible to truly be alone.
Just picking up a book raises the thought that the words before you were once in someone else's mind. They were held there and grew until they were strong enough to be released onto the paper. And now they're cycling back, up from the paper through your pointed finger that follows the lines and into your eyes, moving back and forth, up into your own brain and your own thoughts. And at night, when you're about to go to sleep, you think about those words, quote them in your head, the voice of another you never really knew speaking silently from within you.
Sometimes I get this funny feeling after getting back from a night of swing dancing. The faces of all of my dance partners, dark and vague, will flash through my mind like a faded film reel. I think of all the hands that held mine, that pressed their traces against my back and shoulders and waist. I never remember their names, but it really doesn't matter. I walk around carrying the remnants of them on my clothes for the rest of the night and the weight of such connection, such company, makes me feel so surrounded by life.
And then their are times when I meet someone and feel a complete affinity with them. Obviously it's not straight away. Perhaps I meet them through mutual friends and see them now and then. Or I hear stories about them from someone else I know and get this urge to know them too. You think these people, who often seem so much like you that a relationship and a knowing of some sort is inevitable, must have a purpose in your life. And then, for whatever reason, they step out of your everyday life. Usually we think of death as the culprit in this situation, but it doesn't have to be as dramatic as that. It can be as simple as a change in location or class or schedule. Our lives change so much and there is an endless cycle of new faces pushing out old ones that comes along with that change. And from these brief glimpses of people I get this longing feeling. If only I had known them for a bit longer, if only I had gotten more of a chance to talk to them.
I'm sure this all sounds a bit melodramatic, but I think it's something we all experience at some point. I'm not sure why life chooses to rope us together with some people and not others. I'm not sure what they mean, these fleeting, teasing glimpses of people we feel connected to but will never know. I can't even say what to do about it. Most people say to make the most of every moment and to not take anyone for granted, but sometimes there is really nothing you can do to remedy the feeling of missed opportunity. I can only say that there are billions of faces and voices in our lives everyday, every minute even. People are so commonplace. We're everywhere, always in contact with one another, always clumsily dragging our feet across the lines of other peoples' lives without even meaning to. It's a both a comforting and a suffocating feeling for me because it really is impossible to truly be alone.