Very few remain and we don’t know them well.

In life we start out knowing very few people. The circle of life is at first, at least on the surface, small. Hospital folks, mother, maybe a father, and nuclear relatives come into that small circle. As we connect with the outside world, or as the outside world recognizes our presence in it, we discover a characteristic of the circle: it is elastic and therefore it expands to accommodate all the connections we begin to make. But if you think about the number of people you’ve ever met, with how many have you been able to stay connected long term, for reasons other than blood ties or obligation? How many remain in the circle because we know them and want to keep dwelling in the uncovering of being? And of those that remain, with how many are we able to connect, long term, below the surface, in meaningful way? What is family? Who is family? Who is a friend? What is a friend? How come we do not connect, in a positive way, with everyone who crosses our path? What is it about the way we see life, what we believe, perceive that creates the barriers that cloud the connection? As times goes on, very few “outsiders” or non-blood related people remain in the circle. Why is that? And of the ones who are related by blood, the relationships occur at a surface level, never really getting to know the real person. Why is that? How is it possible to live under the same roof with a group of individuals, such as one’s parents, for 18 years only to realize that “I don’t know who these people are?” How is it that even life shaking events, as a brush with death, an illness, good fortune, success, failure, may not result in a bringing together of those estranged?