We gather together

Remember the Coke commercials where people joined hands and sang joyfully about sharing a coke and keeping the world company?

Humans are social animals, present cynic-with-low-self-esteem company excluded, and it seems that now more than ever, we are anxious to find common goals around which we can gather and celebrate.

The more whimsical and fanciful example I have would be the hoopla over last Friday’s Royal Wedding (and yes, we capitalize it…it’s just. that. important.). Leading up to the events, I honestly didn’t care. I didn’t! I’ve grown up from that 9 year old who watched in awe when Diana became a princess, dragging that impossibly long train down the aisle. Brits and their monarchy – I mean, come on! Who gives a rip?

Then, in spite of myself, I caught a glimpse of Kate’s dress when I innocently opened up a web browser. (Thanks Yahoo). And...she looked beautiful. Radiant. Classically lovely. Grace Kelly-esque. So what if I then typed in “www.bbc.com” just to see how Westminster Abbey was decorated –it was totally so I could scoff at the pomp and circumstance over those silly Brits and their figurehead royalty.

But as I watched the bride walk down the aisle, something changed. I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t want to be there milling around in the crowd waving a Union Jack, or even in the Abbey itself. I didn’t suddenly think that the Queen and all that royal stuff is a great and meaningful thing. No…I was just swept away by the beauty – a pretty, elegant young lady, a handsome prince in his uniform, beaming at his bride, British reserve be damned, the timeless glory of the Abbey, the soaring music…

And it occurred to me that I (and maybe a few million other people) are simply starved for beauty, for civility, for the ageless grace of love eternal. People gathered to celebrate this – and it ALMOST didn’t matter what they were celebrating at that point. Do some people take it a tetch too far? Of course. There are always excesses (see the commercials for the knockoff copy of the engagement ring for $19.95 – comes with a certificate of authenticity!). I decided to stop berating myself, and simply enjoy the pageantry and stop telling myself what a waste it was. Of course there are better ways to spend millions…pro football, for example, is ridiculous, but I’ll save that whole rant for another day.

As people got back to normal after all that wedding business, last night the President came on TV to tell the world that U. S. Navy Seals had killed Osama bin Laden. It’s big news, no doubt, coming years and years after the search started.

And the celebrations began…outside the White House, at Ground Zero in Manhattan, and, I presume, all around the world. Some pundits declared that bin Laden’s death would bring closure to families affected by his evil. I don’t know…closure is a funny thing. Maybe it does give comfort to think that justice has been served – but how many others are standing by to take his place? To avenge his death? Is the “war on terror” really over? These and other questions didn’t matter to the revelers of last night. People gathered, spurred to excitement by a common cause. Humans are starved for connection. These celebrants didn’t get on Facebook, by and large. If at all possible, they wanted human contact – to look into someone else’s eyes and smile, and whoop and holler.

In my own state, volunteers and donations continue to pour in for victims of last week’s monster tornadoes. It’s remarkable to see people go into action when help is REALLY needed. Think of 9/11, of Katrina. And these storms that wreaked such havoc…times like these bring out the very best in humans as they seek to connect, to soothe and comfort, to help in real ways. We have it in us to be so kind and compassionate and giving. Why does it take such devastation to bring it to the surface? Shouldn’t we live in such a way each day, striving to choose the highest choice, recognizing the divine nature of every human we meet?

But, we don’t. Wall Street tycoons steal outright, and continue on their merry way, causing a different kind of destruction and chaos… People hate each other for things that shouldn’t matter. Kids are mean to other kids – often to the point of driving a teen to suicide. This dichotomy, this duality of our nature…it confuses me, and makes me think I’m going nuts at times.

Yearning for community…it’s a big part of the human condition, and as much as I try to pretend otherwise, I want it, too. I write this blog, not only to vent and to neatly fold the thoughts from the tumbling clothes dryer of my mind, but to share. To put a piece of myself “out” there, and hope that someone else says, “Yeah…me too.” The power that’s in those two little words can’t be underestimated. “Me, too.” I understand. I feel what you’re feeling. I know.

Knowing that someone else shares your experiences eases the burden – even if they’re still IN that situation, struggling along with you. It helps to know you’re not alone. And people look for opportunities to share, both good and bad times.

When I tell you that right now I’m struggling to get my sweet son to understand that “Something To Eat” is not an actual food or name of a restaurant, that he found a button labeled “Something To Eat” in his iPad communication app and is now obsessing over “Somefing to EAT!”, that I have placed approximately 5 (at last count) sticky notes that read “Something To Eat” on various foods around the kitchen…someone out there (hello Karen!) will go…”Oh gosh…I know what you mean. I’ve been there.” And that helps. It soothes the agitation. It binds me together with other human beings.

There will always be dark nights. My soul, I imagine, will look rather weary and battle worn by the time it’s all said and done. I will still cry, and rail against the unfairness of it all. But, a little at a time, I’m learning that I’m NOT alone. And it means more to me than I can express.

(A parting note: at the age of 9 I had “Charles and Diana” paper dolls, bought at the little bookshop in my hometown. Do I hear a “Me too” out there?

No?

Oh well. I guess sometimes you’re bound to be the only one.)