A Thousand Tiny Threads

Yesterday, I received a sweet surprise in the mailbox. A simple postcard send from Berlin, Germany, and bearing a few short sentences that brought a smile to my face. The author is a teacher from whom I took an online class a year or so ago. Since class ended, we've traded a few cards and internet messages, mostly steeped in encouragement and gratitude, two things this world could be the better for would we only practice it more often. My mood immediately lifted as I read her words and stepped happily through the making of dinner a few moments later.

It only took  a few words.

The circle of friends and supporters around me has changed over the last two years, primarily by expanding rather than contracting, and the change is both comforting and surprising. It never fails that when I have a rough day or begin to feel invisible, a few words will arrive that bring me back and make me feel attached again. Then are the days when I write to another, and send it by click or by stamp, and hope that the short missive will bring a smile at the other end. At the very least, the quiet back and forth will remind us that we are connected to so many.

We are a thousand tiny threads, lashed together by internet and telephone and mail, by simple greetings and meaningful thoughts, by commonality and difference, by appreciation and encouragement, by support and applause, by sharing and tears, and by smiles across the miles and by laughter over lunch. These tiny threads weave into the fabric that holds us together, the fabric that wraps around us when we're cold and becomes our cape when we feel our superpowers. It's the fabric of our comfort, like an favorite pair of jeans, whether we relax on an afternoon or dazzle on the town. We are a thousand tiny threads, each connecting to another, each adding strength to the fabric of our being. Each one cherished for the contribution to the whole. 

This morning I pulled a box from the shelf and poured out so many cards of the exchanges we have experienced. I read them again and smiled at the power held in a few short words. I spread them across the floor of my study and admired the beauty of the colors and shapes, only surpassed by the thoughts contained therein. I am grateful for the time it took for each to come into being, the thoughts attached and delivered. 

As the colorful assortment lay before me, I realized we are more connected in this world than at any other time in our history. Technology has opened new channels of communication that were unfathomable 100 years ago. Though technological advancements open many a door and create many paths for new connections, nothing will ever replace the words we share with each other. The words between us, whether laughter or encouragement or tears or heart, are the stuff that creates these tiny threads of connection.

I wouldn't trade this favorite pair of jeans for the world.

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