human connection

I figure out all of life's big questions and problems when I can't sleep at night.  Which doesn't happen often - not sleeping - and so I guess I also don't solve a lot of life's biggest problems. In the summer it happens more because I stay up talking until four am with other crazy fools, and then we figure out life together. That is a summer activity. Winter in Chicago is too depressing, so you watch TV and get fat from drinking too much beer and watching NHL and don't think too much. So last night in my insomnia I did some thinking. Figured it all out.

Lately I have come to realize, for the millionth time, that my whole life is about people. Yours might not be. Which is weird, and I do not really understand it so much, but I am pretty sure this is accurate.  There are those of you that have lives focused on other things, work, money, fame, your religion, your craft, your art, your obsession of choice. Whatever it may be.  Mine is not the best. But it is mine.

Now people aren't really my favorite. It's clearly not because I like people all that much that I care about them so.  Mostly I have to remember when I am talking to someone how important they really are, and then I remember, people are incredible. All people. All these people walking around, cells and organ and eyes and toes wiggling in their boots.  All I know is that someone that is alive is important. Breathing things have a hold on me. Same with animals. Same with trees. Trees? Really.

When I take a good look at a tree losing its leaves, a clover in the grass, the snow falling endlessly, I get a little jealous. Jealous because I know that whatever that thing is doing is exactly what it is supposed to be doing and I long for that not only in myself but for all of humanity. I know this desire comes from a depth of belief inside of me that I am lucky to have. Like I said, my empathy and love for people are a feeble, sad excuse for what the words really mean, on my own, at least.  Fake it til you make it, I guess, and pray you might not screw things up.

One of the reasons people are so important is because we're all connected.  Being a woman, I've got this ability to grow a baby inside of me (which is not currently happening) - but I have got it. Last night I nearly had a mini panic attack thinking about it. Human. Inside of me. Quite literally attached. While I get that this has been happening for about a million years - I wonder how this very fact has not kept us people from doing such horrible things to each other. Do we forget where we came from? Does it not matter that two people had to come together to make another and that you came from someone? I think it matters very much. I can't wait to have a little human inside of me, growing, forming, living, being. Not saying I am going to be some super human preggo lady. I have no idea. Point: this is an example of intimate human connection; one we all have participated in to some extent.

So this is why I want to counsel people and have children and talk about dogs all the time. This is why. This is why when it comes to any political or religious decision, I must and will err on the side of loving people, and if I err to far, I will suffer the consequences of loving too much.  If I sound illogical, that's OK. If I sound emotional, that's OK. If I sound idealistic, it's because I am.

I wish purpose was as easy to see in human life as the bending of branches in a strong wind. I wish that purpose was sought and found that didn't leave pain in its wake.  I wish that everyone valued human life and health like they do their bank accounts, their popularity, their safety.

Man, I am such a hippie. If only helping the world was solved by packing my bags and moving to a commune on a farm. Alas, my purpose does not allow for that. At least not now.