I think I’ve begun to thrive on that uncanny feeling you get when someone you just meet feels unmistakably familiar. The older I get, the more often it happens; and I sense that I’m not the only one this phenomenon affects. And I wonder if the people I feel it toward, are feeling it too. Such things are rarely spoken of in the moment. But sometimes I point it out, and there has been mutual familiarity and it’s really pleasant. So much so that I feel a warmth or at “home” in this fishbowl for a brief passing of time.
The real tragedy of life may just be that we’re all here enduring the seediness, when if exposed in entirety, we may actually come to know that everything is indeed one and the same. Here now we delight in the trials of individuality. Will I ever be anything other than what someone else intended, somewhere else in some other time? True freedom is sensing that ancient extension of yourself in strangers, and by no means of ego or fear. Only love is left, right?