Rooting for Our Humanity

adult beverage breakfast celebration
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

Mostly, I’m searching for answers. It always seems like I’m skirting around the flames, becoming uncomfortably warm, while desperately longing to become ignited, burning brightly. The flames seems so alluring, intense, wondrous, and beautiful.

My mind keeps being drawn back to the origins of our existence. Why are we here? Why this human design and why the gift of insight and curiosity? It would have been easier to operate within the constraint of biological urges, driven by basic needs, and lacking in the ability to question one’s intent and decisions. Why do we dream? What is this intangible part of us that fuels the desire to achieve more and become even more connected? And why do some of us appear to implode, folding in to the walls that promise us a false sense of security?

I’m interested in knowing more about our humanity. Are we losing it? Or are we in transformation? I often desire connection, but retract into hopelessness and at times, despair. I become lonely, a bit isolated. And, then I catch my breath, keenly aware that we are sharing this space together. I’m taking in the same air that you do and sharing with you the experience of now. No matter how close or far from me you are, together we are alive in this moment. There’s so much emotional noise and competition. The energy of life is overwhelming, trapping so many of us in various preoccupations and distractions. I sometimes forget that you are there with me.

Driving down winding roads at dusk, I’m quick to become captivated by your windows, brightly lit up, smoke ascending from the chimney. You are inside, hopefully warm, perhaps busy. You are alive and maybe lost in thought. I hope you are happy and full. Could you be kneeling right now and playing with the children on the floor or maybe you are wrapped up in your lover’s arms, lost in love? It could be that you are simply engaged in routine tasks, preparing for the work day ahead: brushing your teeth, taking a shower, laying out your clothes for the next day. The clothes so many others might notice tomorrow when they come into contact with you. Perhaps you are putting on the necklace that your widowed husband gifted you the year before he passed away. The one that still gets so many compliments. No matter your story, you are alive and we are sharing this present moment and space.

I continue to drive and I pass several cars. My thoughts drift to where you might be headed on this crisp Winter evening. I get lost in the layers of stories and become intrigued by the uniqueness of each person’s individual experience. I become electrified with the energy of life around me and wish I could understand more. Trapped in my physical form and isolated by the practicality of life, I can often only know you briefly in passing. When I see you driving, or in a store, or perhaps on the bus, I entertain myself with stories. I am aware that I am limited by your physical form, mannerism, and any small exchange we might have. But, I’m often curious to know how you are getting along. Life is lonely, at times, and it can be very hard. Sometimes, it’s silly I know, but I nearly wish we’d hug and acknowledge we’re in this existence together.

I go back to the four walls of my bedroom in my small apartment. My roommate is watching the news in the living room and the broadcast sometimes will spill into my room and I’ll hear bits and pieces of it. It’s a bit overwhelming for me and I limit my exposure to an entity that often elevates my anxiety and depression. There is so much noise right now in our world with constant screaming over issues large and small on Facebook. I step back and notice how angry we all are, and seemingly unable to reach consensus. I sometimes get caught up in the chaos, shouting loudly with fingers flying on the keyboard. It isn’t long before I remind myself again to “let go”.

I’m still searching and am confused as to why I am here. Why am I here in this time period, as a female, and in this human form? Why anything for that matter? Why live and why die? Why the biological processes, which are quite miraculous I might add, to sustain our limited and tenuous survival? Why are some leaving us so early, while others stay on? I ask these questions and I often laugh at the absurdity of life. I wish it were slower. I wish I were more connected to myself and others. I wish our communities were smaller and everyone knew each other. I am missing and longing for our humanity. What happened to us? Things feel different and I don’t want to lose you. Remember we are in this together, breathing the same air, sharing this amazing space and present moment. When I see you engrossed in your thoughts or actively involved in some endeavor, I’ll be rooting for you. In our aloneness, we are not alone. We’re ok. I wish you peace.

Advertisements

5 thoughts on “Rooting for Our Humanity

  1. A good title. Me too. But there is a gigantic problem, which is a near universal belief, that a supernatural realm exists, the realm of human spirits and gods. Religion is a scam for the delusion of resurrection. BTW I read you bio and liked it. GROG

  2. You are definitely not alone in your thoughts and perspectives. I think we have got to a point where our tendency towards individualism is breaking down and our inhumanity and anger towards others is causing pain. Many are disconnected but I see something good in embracing the pain of that because it opens up our urge and desire to connect and move past our separation. I do believe this is a time of awakening for many. We see the state of things and despair but that give us the urge to reach out somehow to change things, even if its only in a small way.

Comments are closed.