The movie got to a scene where a leading scientist was showing us how our emotions affect some yogurt in a cup. They almost lost me. And had it been any other day, they would have lost me. But they put some sensor things into the yogurt, turned on the little machine and they asked the director if he was married to which he answered "next question... Not anymore.. Jeez" and lord behold the little needle on the little machine twitched.
I'm not sure how much I believe I'm connected to some yogurt in a cup but I get the idea, and on a more practical level-it makes sense.
This past weekend, I lost a classmate to a car accident. She sat next to me in my government class and was the literally the best seat partner you could ask for. I wasn't close to her like a lot of my classmates were, but I still feel the loss.
In this situation, in today especially, I feel like the yogurt, and when someone cries, sniffles, has an expression of grief on their face.. My little needle twitches, and then I balance back at rest and then another person crosses me and I twitch again, and so on and so on. The pain could not go unfelt, and it seems like when it is all too much for one person we beckon another to us to help share the heavy load. And to this we do unyielding. To help seems like a reflex.
But now I've just been through my first two periods of the day and I'm not the only yogurt cup anymore. My classmates left and right have their little needle twitching over and over again.
And now I lay in bed, thinking on the day. Thinking of our little needles twitching at each sniffle, until suddenly our needles are drops of water and we are all an ocean. An ocean so irrefutably one and a million things at the same time. And in silence we are calm, in laughter we are a gentle roar, and in everything else we are a storm.
