warning:

This is just a rambling, free-writing bit, so let's see if I come up with anything, shall we?

I've been thinking a lot about the connections we make as human beings: to each other, to animals, to God, and to the world. I've been watching and I can catch glimpses of an emerging pattern. I think the connections we make are about what we need, (well, duh) but I think it goes a step further than that. I think the connections we make or don't make are more wrapped up in need than we can imagine.

Last night, after the crowd was thinned by the hour and our blood was thinned by alcohol, I asked a guy to dance. Shocking, I know, that I would put myself out there like that. It really was no big deal, and he was the perfect gentlemen about it. But, afterward, he asked me why I asked him to dance. Odd thing to ask. (Good looking guy, and who would guess the man could dance? He didn't need me to build him up.)

I know I gave him a funny look. "Because you were the only person not dancing."

"Thanks," he said, and I could see that he meant it.

There's a protocol of connection around Beastie, as well. When you drive around in a giant, jacked-up jeep, and you encounter another giant, jacked-up jeep, you are supposed to wave. It's just what we do. Not giant, shoulder-dislocating gestures, but lift your fingers off the wheel at least, dude. Make the acknowledgement. Make the connection.

Most of us make "peace" with our fingers.

Peace.

Connection.

Not a coincidence, I believe.

People meet up and associate and infiltrate one another's lives. It's just what we do as human beings. Sometimes our connections are outside the bounds of common acceptability and decency, which somehow does but probably shouldn't make them any less important. Sometimes no one understands your connection to another person. When I talk about my friend Greg, people give me a quizzical look--if they know that our friendship is an online friendship, and especially if they know our age difference. It's disconcerting, yes, but I ignore it as best I can. Why talk about him at all then? I wonder. But I do mention him sometimes (after all, I chat with him more than I do some of my face friends). And occassionally someone who's had an unlikely friendship nods knowingly. They get it, and I know I'm not as alone as I think I am.

Sometimes we just stumble across people who change us, maybe for better, or maybe for worse; maybe for a lifetime, or maybe for a moment. But I somehow can't believe these are accidents. What one needs can be derived from any connection we make. Needs can be answered even by failed connections, because it's an opportunity to connect with oneself.

Consider that there are no mistakes or coincidences. Consider that our connections are an intricate dance keeping time to the beat of our needs. Is it fatist to believe that? Perhaps.

Or, perhaps, it's just a belief in life.