Sunday, November 13, 2011


Lately I've stumbled across this, thankfully so as it gives me hope. I tear up when I realize that everything I think or touch or hold came through someones hands.

The house I live in was someone's idea and hard work. The coffee I drink was picked by someone far away and ground somewhere else and fills up a mug that came from somewhere else. The music streamed to me on Pandora is decades old, done by men and women who have passed on to something else.

My fingerprint is in the world also. But how can I ever feel alone when I think of the string of biological DNA that connects me to the stream of humankind and the bolt of cloth that is spun out of you and me that is us.

Alone and being ungrounded in source is just a delusion. I was lost and now am found.

1 comment:

  1. Hey--the meaning of my life: "Lost-and-Found" Department.

    Maybe it fit some others?
    Thank you, Carol!