Last night I was up until nearly 3 a.m. talking with someone I had just met. We felt a real connection to each other and the conversation was intense and meaningful and brilliant and pleasant and tearful and ended only because she had to get ready to catch a plane to go home. Home across the country to a place I would be no more likely to visit than she would be likely to find herself in Hutchinson, Kansas.
And yet we obviously had things to say to each other. So, we met by accident, in a place where neither of us resides, and we connected. We talked and shared intently, and then parted with a hug.
Was that it? Or will be connect again? Have we done all the business we had to do with each other or was that just a beginning? Will we keep in touch as we vowed last night? Or have we said all we needed to say, done all we needed to do? That is always the question, I suppose. Is there more? Sometimes we can’t speculate.
I’m guessing she is home safely with her husband and children and enjoying the reunion with them. I’m tucked safely back into my little world, too. It’s so easy to let go of those extraordinary experiences when we’re once again mired in the daily ordinary. Yet, that ordinary has a sacredness all its own.
I’ve had this experience a few times in my life – where I meet someone and feel an instant kinship with them. Sometimes that develops into a long term friendship like with Sondra, sometimes it burns brightly for a short time and then fades to a comfortableness like with Jim, and sometimes it’s white hot for the briefest of moments and then it’s over. Whatever it is is OK. No particular way is right or wrong, it just is.
I guess I just always want the tiniest of glimpses into the future, to see what it holds.
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