Web

The two people I meet at the church service in Peru live in Vail and know my good friend there. I ask them to say hello for me when they go back.

The woman I meet in the hallway of a nursing care facility in New York knows the man who was the doctor in the small town where I lived for many years, in Vermont. She gets teary-eyed when we make this connection and asks that I tell him hello for her.

“I ran into someone who knows you,” my friend in California tells me, “she was sad to hear you are leaving your church, but wanted me to tell you she says hello.”

The person who sells my friend his first house in northern Vermont knows my friend who has just died in southern Vermont.

Right after she dies another friend notices a dragonfly mysteriously flitting nearby, at the catering venue where she was working in Massachusetts. “It was funny,” she says… “everyone noticed it.”

My neck has been sore for days—my sorrow and fatigue manifesting as pain in my neck. Two nights ago, after I collect my sister at the airport and we finally make it home, I am settling in to bed, so very happy to have her near, when I feel a hand on the place on my neck that had been aching. Because Daisy has paws and not hands, I assume it is someone from the other side reaching across to tell me “It’s OK.” When I wake in the morning the ache is gone.

This is the internet upon which I wish to spend my time, the www of life. Deeply connected are we, all of us: the air we breathe, the birds that fly through it, the living and the dead and all the people who make this earthly walk with us. This is the place where I wish to spend my life’s energy, direct my loving attention, foster connection, seek out people and deliver messages of friendship.

I encourage you, fellow human beings, to do the same. In the real world … to pay attention, to remain curious, to speak gratitude, to open your heart and your life, not to the artificial and meaningless world of your devices, but to each other and the infinitely magnificent world around you, seen and unseen, every day. Amen.