Love Them

There is something about coincidence that you just cannot walk away from.  For instance, as I was sitting here reading my paper, someone else far away, unknown to me, killed themselves. At the very moment when I was eating a satisfying meal and getting ready to do my ordinary chores, a house caught on fire, bursting into flames that rose into the sky like a column of insanity.

Many things happen all at the same time. Some people believe that all of time is a single event of randomness to which we assign order so that we can begin to understand things, anything. I don't believe we do understand.

We have God and Allah and other names for the ultimate force of creation and goodness, the inexplicable, the things we cannot possibly take credit for. We always ask why. Why is there evil in the world? Why is this so wonderful and that so awful? Who is responsible? Who do we blame for bad luck and ill fate, for good luck and blessings?

If you are Zorba-esque, you embrace your brothers and dance on the beach, facing each other and listening to music while your heart beats and your feet move.  Alone, you are safe but only for the moment. Zorba-like, we shrug off the possibility of harm and ignore evil that lurks in the shadows beyond the fire's edge.

Turn off the damned TV and go say I love you to someone. And then dance with them, heart to heart.