Cosmology of People

Spending a few hours in looking for a short video clip is beyond frustration. Accepting that only the memory holds it is somehow appalling. Realising that cosmic connections are always secured by unyielding fate. Experiences which eventuate in the course of fellowship must rather be kept from becoming bragging rights.

As I have finally halted my scavenger hunt in my hard drives, I have concluded that "It is not meant to be seen." It should not have 100K likes on Facebook or any other social networks on the Internet, which dictate that everybody has to be validated in such ways. After all, it is the new normal.

I rarely make friends. I believe that friendship is a soulful exchange out of spirituality. People with such capacity are hard to come by. But in days when heaven decides to grant a cosmic drop in, it makes a person feel a certain taste of transcendence.

Oh I remember each one of those I have cosmic connections with. They are my friends here, there, and who knows where else too. Some of them are always in contact. Others are just in the cosmic plane, thinking of me and of those moments previously spent. I hold them dear, regardless. Pray for them. Hope them well. Of course, think of them now and then.

Tonight I have thought of this one person, or perhaps he has thought of me. I can only assume. But for him to look forward to relive that time we spent together years ago, maybe indeed! I am quiet gobsmacked, because I also have another friend who unconsciously sends her mental predicaments -via cosmos- to me. I always say hello before she can even do so. The former friend, well, he is hard to catch up with all the time, or even more than so often. Distance. Position. Situation. Those factors.

Most of the time, there is that silent understanding or agreement of gap. I put it out there first. I had a wonderful man (now my  husband) back then. I needed to limit the cosmic exchange to tolerable level for a win-win. He understood. My husband did too, which was also the root of his jealousy. I, most of all, maintain such degree of reservation.

It was quiet an experience we both had. It was a rite of passage. For what? I do not know. All I know is, to be connected in such a way is a preparation of what is yet to come. What is coming? I do not know too. Until then, the memory remains. Only those present can attest the truth of the cosmos.