CONNECTIONS
BY JACOB W. HARPER
Deep in the soul is the need for honest connection to one another, to an ideal. The earth, stars, creatures, God or devil beg the fundamental question of “why?” Why does this treacherous heart search for connections amid a field of mines? Why, even after pain is felt, does it yearn for connection — like addicts for their drug?
A psychologist would claim it simple, a subject addressed by id, ego, and superego. The anthropologist would attribute the needs of society created from the bonds of agrarian society, many hands making light work. Sociology shows the agreements both the spoken and unspoken that create a code among humans.
I (a man alone with a pen) decry the sensibility of these great minds. As a man removed from the connections which formed him whose errant heart screams its war cry with ringing clarity, I say, men connect for no other reason than then they must. The heart, the soul, search for others who are alike. Humans connect, in fact our entire reason to be, is to form relationships. Oh, the jaded may put forth that alone they thrive, but watch their tells; the light enters their eyes when they feel understood, when they experience like minds resonating.
Watch children create connections. The worlds which collide and know not yet a reason why “society” would not condone their fraternization. Watch the one on the fringe and soon you will see them approached, see the hope in their face, a hope of connection, a friend to be made.
Observe the teens, those poor awkward souls whose bodies betray them and who try so desperately try to fit a mold to find a reason for connection, someone to accept them when they cannot accept themselves. Observe the pain it inflicts when that acceptance cannot be found.
Like all connections, some fail. When they do, we either collapse catastrophically or attempt to reestablish. From a wired connection of electricity to the neurons and myelin coated connections of the brain, the failed connection creates some of life’s most interesting aspects.
As magnets attract, the tension grows. The soul does the same, the warming of the heart when people connect. Love, brotherhood, camaraderie, all hold that basic need met. Oddly, enough, we connect to creatures, plants, inanimate objects all the same.
For my errant heart words and music create connections. My speech may fumble and present the facade of deceit. Oh to find that clean connection (without static of buzz) that plays from my heart, a purity where nothing has been hidden, no coyness. I aim to provide a place where unrefuted desire can flourish without apology. The words once put to page cannot become unwritten, the music cannot be unsung. The connection is put forth, awaiting its counterpart. | JWH
He does very good writing.