CONNECTEDNESS

Connectedness is the energy we feel when we have joined the dance.It is what “happens” when we realize, when we acknowledge with gratitude, that we and our world are one. It is what “happens” when we know there is no separation between ourselves and a blossoming tree-ourselves and a blade of grass-ourselves and the infinite Universe.

I have been trying to write a story. I have been trying to put everything that happened on Saturday into words. Until now, the right words have eluded me, but I’m beginning to understand why. I was so focused on the details that I missed the message. I didn’t see the big picture Spirit was showing me. I couldn’t see it, because I was standing in the way.
And just now, my message found me:

CONNECTEDNESS ISN’T SOMETHING THAT HAPPENS, IT IS SOMETHING THAT ALREADY IS.

I awoke Friday morning to an interview in progress. The clock-radio went on; an author was speaking. She was talking about angels, how she had written over twenty books about them. Then she paused and the interviewer spoke. “I’m sure everyone would love to hear how your first publisher found you,” he said. She was about to tell her story, when I lost the station. Suddenly, all I could hear was static.

Ordinarily, I would have tried to fix the reception. But something told me not to try. Something said, “stay where you are.” “Don’t move.” So, I listened to the whisper.

Eventually, silence broke the static and then the reception returned. The author was speaking. She was talking about a conversation she had had with God. She wanted to know why there had been so many delays, so many disappointments. She wanted to understand why it had taken so long for her dream to happen.

Shortly after this Divine conversation, her “big break” came. “I was in the right place at the perfect time,” she said. “God made it happen.”

I held onto her story. Over and over again, I replayed her words in my head.

The next day, my husband and I were attending a funeral for his uncle. We were late getting to the church; the mass was half-over. So we sat in the back row. As I scanned the room for familiar faces, I was immediately struck by something: I didn’t recognize anyone. I turned to my husband and whispered to him. “I know it’s been a long time, but no one looks familar to me,” I said. “Do you know any of these people?

Looking around, he realized we were in the wrong place.

As discreetly as possible and without saying a word, we both stood up and turned around. In that exact moment, someone I knew walked through the door. It was a friend I hadn’t seen in over a year. I had been thinking about her; she had been thinking about me. “I’ve been meaning to call you,” she said.

“Is this the Miller funeral,” I asked as we hugged.

“No,” she said, “This is the Arena family.”

“We’re at the wrong funeral,” I whispered.

“I’ll call you,” she said.

Eventually, we made it to the right church.

After a lovely mass, John and I joined his family for lunch. A woman I never met before sat directly across from me and introduced herself. I noticed the vest she was wearing. It had an applique of a piano on it.Earlier in the week, at the suggestion of a friend, I had enrolled Thomas in a piano class.

“Are you a pianist,” I asked.

“Yes,” she replied. “I’m a piano teacher.”

“I just signed my son up for piano lessons,” I said.

“That’s wonderful to hear,” she replied. “You know studies are showing how important music is to children- how it stimulates intellectual and creative growth,” she continued.

We had a wonderful conversation. She told me what qualities to look for in a teacher. She said I needed to make sure their teaching style matched my son’s learning style. She reiterated information a dear friend had recently shared with me- a dear friend who is also a piano teacher.
We said our goodbyes and I thanked her for all the helpful information. At the same time, an elderly man made his way across the room and sat in her chair. “So Robin, tell me, how is your book going,” he said.

I didn’t know this man. I had never seen him before. But my husband had met him at the wake. John told me about him, that he had published his first book and was writing another one. He had told John to have me call him. He wanted to tell me how he had found a publisher.

I noticed that this man was wearing two hearing aids.

He was a sweet and gentle soul who wanted to tell me his story. So, I smiled at him and listened. He was a retired teacher, who had devised a method of learning through touch and wrote a book about it. He told me that, although he had received many testimonials from his students, publishers were not impressed.

Then, pulling his chair closer to mine, he said, “But, listen to what happened next.”

He told me had been researching publishers and found one that sounded like a good prospect. He had sent out a query, but received a rejection letter in return. It was one of the kindest, most thoughtful leters he had ever received, he said. The publisher liked his idea, but wasn’t sure it was marketable.

A few months later, the author attended an out of town dinner party. He was visiting friends who lived hundreds of miles from his home. Knowing no one, he decided to strike up a conversation with the man who was seated next to him. The author asked the man what he did for a living. The man told the author he was a publisher.

Not only was he a publisher, but the same publisher who had kindly rejected the author’s work. As it turned out, they became best friends.And the publisher published the book he had originally rejected.

Hugging him, I thanked the author for sharing his story and wished him well. He pointed to his ears and shook his head; he couldn’t hear me. I hugged him again and smiled. By then, everyone was getting ready to leave. So John and I walked outside to say our goodbyes.
As I opened the door, I felt the warmth of the sun. I winked at the sky. Filled with gratitude, I thanked Spirit for a most magical afternoon- for the invitation to dance.