It looks like I wasn't the only one yesterday intrigued by the post of
HoCoConnect on Super Connectors. This morning I followed up by reading
the piece he linked to on what it takes to be a Super Connector. I
found it rather creepy. I think that what made Dennis Lane so
brilliant at this is that his was an innate ability. He may have refined
it through the years, and I am sure it came in handy in his
professional career as well. But nobody had to make a list for him. He
was, simply put, gifted.
It is possible to make a list describing the qualities of anything: what defines prodigy, what makes comedy funny, or why humans are drawn to making music. Perhaps it is part of the human condition to try to define what is essentially undefinable. Sometimes we want to think it through and establish a concrete process.
Sometimes we want to absorb the beauty of it and enjoy it for what it is.
We have a friend staying with us this week. He was the Best Man at our wedding. He is one of M.'s godparents, so she has known him all her life. His trip is not for pleasure; he is here to sit at the bedside of a dying friend and to support his family.
But from the moment Chris came through our door, something unexpected happened. Margo lit up. She let down her guard, smiled, laughed. She joined in the silly wordplay and general fooling around. I can't begin to explain the joy her dad and I felt in seeing her relaxed and enjoying herself. We hadn't been entirely sure that she still had it in her.
Chris is living out the tragedy, day by day, of watching a friend in his forties slip away from this life. We are mourning the senseless loss of the "blogger godfather" who seemed to effortlessly hold many worlds together. M. Is carrying the sadness and anger of being in middle school and not fitting in. You would think this would be a recipe for gloom or at least malaise.
But something inexplicable happened in the connection. We provided a place for Chris to be at a difficult time. He brought the ability to find joy in seeing old friends. M. brought her essential self without inhibition. And then there was magic.
"Well something's lost, but something's gained in living every day..."
You can make a list and analyze. You can celebrate joyful mysteries. It doesn't matter how you look at it. There are times that our small connections create a greater whole than the sum of the parts would suggest.
Hope steals into our hearts, blending something lost into something gained.
hocoblogs@@@
It is possible to make a list describing the qualities of anything: what defines prodigy, what makes comedy funny, or why humans are drawn to making music. Perhaps it is part of the human condition to try to define what is essentially undefinable. Sometimes we want to think it through and establish a concrete process.
Sometimes we want to absorb the beauty of it and enjoy it for what it is.
We have a friend staying with us this week. He was the Best Man at our wedding. He is one of M.'s godparents, so she has known him all her life. His trip is not for pleasure; he is here to sit at the bedside of a dying friend and to support his family.
But from the moment Chris came through our door, something unexpected happened. Margo lit up. She let down her guard, smiled, laughed. She joined in the silly wordplay and general fooling around. I can't begin to explain the joy her dad and I felt in seeing her relaxed and enjoying herself. We hadn't been entirely sure that she still had it in her.
Chris is living out the tragedy, day by day, of watching a friend in his forties slip away from this life. We are mourning the senseless loss of the "blogger godfather" who seemed to effortlessly hold many worlds together. M. Is carrying the sadness and anger of being in middle school and not fitting in. You would think this would be a recipe for gloom or at least malaise.
But something inexplicable happened in the connection. We provided a place for Chris to be at a difficult time. He brought the ability to find joy in seeing old friends. M. brought her essential self without inhibition. And then there was magic.
"Well something's lost, but something's gained in living every day..."
You can make a list and analyze. You can celebrate joyful mysteries. It doesn't matter how you look at it. There are times that our small connections create a greater whole than the sum of the parts would suggest.
Hope steals into our hearts, blending something lost into something gained.
hocoblogs@@@
Comments
Post a Comment