Good old buoys

In my reading about Christophany this morning, I am learning that in a world where individualism is a primary assumption, the things we encounter are either "me" or "not me;" we become like little castles, completely separate from one another.

And in such cases intimacy becomes, for one party or the other, a potential loss of identity. If there can only be me or not me, one party must be subsumed in the other, and the attempt to connect becomes more of an invasion than an engagement.

But the author then suggests another way of seeing; that we are all part of a net, all connected by the same threads but each a unique knot. I was immediately reminded of this image, taken many years ago when I lived in Friday Harbor.

This net was just dumped in a pile on one of the docks used by the fishing boats that anchored there. The way the threads were sort of greenish, and glinted in the sun, made me see that the buoys (which were actually yellow, white and orange) looked very much like easter eggs, so I used my (then very elementary) knowledge of PhotoShop to delicately add a bit of pink and lavender.

I don't know whether the author of Christophany will stay with his knots-in-a-net theory, or if he will pick that one apart as well and come up with some other analogy. But I'm thinking it would be more fun to be the buoys that keep the net of being afloat; each of us buoyant with life and love; each of us a gift and a surprise, appreciated and anticipated like the pleasures of an easter basket on a sunny spring morning; all of us working together for a common goal.

But then, I always was a dreamer!