Being Connected

I was browsing Facebook today, trying to escape my current assignment for my Police Psychology class and see Nora Purmort’s book is available for pre-order. I couldn’t click fast enough.

Her husband died after an epic battle with cancer. Her writing speaks so deeply to me.

I guess we’re all connected. I heard Oprah Winfrey say once, “All pain is the same.” This was during the beginning of Winfrey’s “self-help” spiral and I wrote it off as voodoo.

The last couple of years the saying has been stuck in my head when I get extra introspective and introverted. When the passing thought is, no one in the world understands my pain. Which is true to some extent. This shell of a body is my own. However, my pain is not my own. It’s a shared experience. It’s flows outside of this shell and touches every one in my life. Sometimes it’s just a trickle, sometimes it’s gushing.

I guess I like Nora so much because she writes from the heart. It’s super raw. It reminds me of how I write. How I over-share. How I trust all of you so much and many of you are faceless, sometimes nameless blobs of organs, skin, and blood. We all connect. Through the pain. Sure, we can rejoice in each other’s joy too. But pain and fear make us innately human doesn’t it?

We are all just clawing to connect. To feel it. To experience those moments when everything seems perfectly fucked and perfectly perfect at the same moment. We are all walking contradictions. We all just want to connect. I just want to connect in the realest way I know how.

MW

 

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