We all need each other.

I don’t mean this in a preachy way – and by all means, I don’t mean for the
aforementioned statement to imply any sort of absolutism that would mistakenly declare
the way I think things really are.

I don’t know the way things really are. I just know how to live with things as is.

So, with this in mind, I repeat once more: we all need each other.

This belief comes from many close observations; and these, collected through the years,
by experiences I can remember and not, and by interactions with people who, just like me
– observe the connections we have with each other, and too many times, take for granted.
My beliefs on universal interconnectivity, meaning how we all really need each other, are
validated again and again every time I have consciously decided to listen closely to
myself (and in doing so, to others as well).

I’ll first let you know a bit of how I’ve learned to listen to myself, before validating why I
think we might be better off needing each other than not. The latter topic (needing each
other) is much more complicated than the former (listening to oneself) – so I’ll start with
the easier of the two subjects: learning to listen to myself.

To listen closely to myself is difficult. There’s external clutter all around me, keeping me
from hearing clearly. Imagine a jungle. Pick any jungle. Pick a thick mass of screaming
life, tightly wound in a big, strong live-action package. The air there is thick and wet. The
sounds are screeching every which way, and there’s nowhere to sit, but the damp earth
below. Then the observant self leaves the body in question for a while. Zoom out. Get a
bird’s eye view of everything below. There’s the greenish canopy covering everything
that was easy to see moments ago - with plenty of vines hanging about, adorning every
little peaking hole that looms silently in the spaces between the massive trees underneath.
in the midst of the lively ambience there, there’s a ruckus – a loud screeching, a heavy
cawing, a tired snuffing and all sorts of other animal noises that crowd out a very lonely
person, who lies stuck in the middle of all of it. A me. A you. Yes, a me (and you!) is
sitting in the middle of a busy jungle, waiting for a higher self to find – myself – and to
then wake from the lonesome travesty that is…what it is, each time you or I get lost.
What is? It all is, once it is what it is. And that’s the whole travesty of life. Determining
that what is really is.

Once you’ve determined the “is” dilemma, you’re golden – but most observers never can,
and those that are able to, usually end up with added stress and symbolic footnotes in
their truth-seeking paths that shout out: “I might not be so sure of what I just found out.”

Insecurity breeds uncertainty. Uncertainty disturbs the soul.

There is no better armor than a strong sense of full-fledged meaning. An individual life
would benefit immensely from true meaning. Wars have been won because of meaning.
Successful companies have been built from scratch. Works of art brought to life. All these
had strong meaning.

Individual significance in the face of life’s randomness and unfairness helps a man, any
man, keep his dignity intact while under the cruel eye of the condemnatory spectator –
one that stares with judgment after some ugly accident or life mishap has taken place.
Meaning itself is a strong shield, but how it manifests, is somewhat vague. Nothing can
really determine whether one’s personal meaning be represented through a strong
connection to a higher power, like God, or through something else, like a steadfast belief
linked to a strong emotion, like the loyalty that family brings. The origin of life’s
significance for every person varies, but in essence only one tongue is spoken: human.
There’s “human” everything: Human touch, human language, human communication and
human solitude.

Humanness connotes a connection with everyone around you. Once your presence in this
world is established, you’re intrinsically linked with every person close to you. The
“human” side of us, which is made palpable by the constant display of emotions in our
daily lives, is what distinguishes us from every other life form. To put “humanness” in
general terms – one should think of the word soul.

The soul that guides itself is exemplary. It is not lost or turned off; it is in full operating-
mode, always working at full speed, and partnering up with its body-host, to provide him
or her with the best path to life. The soul tells its owner to stop before he or she gets hurt,
and it also protects and safeguards every personal interest (be it small or big) the person
in question has in line (whether it also be life-threatening or irrelevant).

The observant self becomes the primary guide to life when the soul is recognized as a
genuinely living and participating entity. If the soul is no more real to us, than a wishy-
washy fairy tale is – one we hoped were true, but never really believed in – then the soul
is useless.

To call it soul is to accept the universal definition for it. Some call it spirit, other call it
mojo. What a soul will always be, though, is a fountain of energy – from which we derive
much of it. Willful living has much soul. Determined independence, stamina and freedom
all have souls to thank too.

So the soul is there. And it speaks. It shouts. One way or another it screams at our faces –
making sure to be heard, and if not properly listened, then at least always heard.

If you get to hear it, then you’ve listened to yourself. This is real power.

The man that blindly feels his way through the daily grind that are most lives (to live –
wake, eat, work, play, sleep…repeat), reacting to every external happenstance by
surprise, not knowing whether to laugh, cry, shout or scream – depending on the place,
time and circumstance, can repeat the same personality-invoked responses to random
life’s praises and attacks with no problem at all. To solicit otherwise (meaning, to prefer a
life different to that the norm follows) is ludicrous, unthinkable – sometimes morally
confusing. Because no one hears their inner voice, their souls, no one takes a second to
think: Am I here, will I be here if I keep on doing the same dance my whole life? One
step, two step, three step – OFF. Then the game is over and we never knew what his us.
There is a heavy fatigue that comes with resisting change, and that includes repressing
that within us that is dying to get out: the voice that shouts here I am – this is me!

Then there are actions that produce images of comfort, which always serve as the best
security blankets. There’s the smile in a love’s face, a complement to her hair, after
touching it, and gently tugging it – to say “thank you for being with me”.

The meaning I give to life as of now, will most likely not be the same in ten or twenty
years. Circumstances and life change too much to adequately specify what meaning
should be given to what. But people should not worry. Things fall in place; whether we
expect them to, or not.

All this sounds promising. Yet discouraging. After all, what is worse than being promised
a treasure, yet after taking the time to dig for it, finding nothing?

Empty promises make way for resentment. The world is bitter and resentful. Religion
always made a good job of keeping people with a purpose, yet since Nietzsche and other
modern thoughts, dogmatic faith has kept its promises only to a few, and most have been
let down. Religions and belief systems are not to blame. People are. There is a difference.

But too many times in life, especially in these modern ego-satisfying times, I’ve been left
with no one to turn to but myself. I don’t mean to come off as an ego-dependent, self-
righteous person, whose only concern is me, myself and I. No. I am just an individual
who, when having considered in the past what to do in times of trouble, has ventured on
the path of common sense, and decided to naturally rely on myself. Why? Because I was
always there, no matter what. I’m no one’s direct responsibility but mine. When things
clicked – and becoming responsible, meant to stop placing blame on others (including
God), everything started to change. And is became clearer.

In my own private consultations with myself, I was able to make use of my intelligence
and realize that the energy I needed to take advantage of it was inside me, and not
outside, like I used to (and indirectly this made me…) believe. I made use of strength I
never knew I had. Like everyone I trust and know, there have been times in my life where
I’ve thought that no one really knows what’s best for me other than me. And why would
they?

Deep inside, every rational human being knows what is right, what is wrong, and what is
healthy for the soul, yet most decide to deviate from what feels natural, because
becoming natural has become uncomfortable. To be comfortable at all times is arrogant,
lazy or just plain misguided in today’s terms.

For those that turn to God, I personally believe that they really do so – but at the end of
the day, it is the person that decides whether to take such “godly” information to heart
and act on it – or not.

So, then – who better than me to lead me through all the uncertainty that life has to offer?
And whom better than a girlfriend/wife/companion to accompany me and help me
through it all? And what about friends? A friend can always help distract you from the
unnecessary daily pains that exist here inside and everywhere else.

Then when energy has been found, and people see fit to not feel sorry for themselves
anymore, then the soul, which was never lost – only ignored – resurfaces and everything
looks softer and clearer. What was inside now befits everything that reflects poorly on the
outside, and soon what was hardly noticeable, overtakes and shines on what used to
suffocate life – and therein lies a connection to something other than you.

From listening to yourself, to comprehensively needing to relate to others – there is no

melodrama involved, or patronizing display of emotions to have to go through to be able
to realize that there is no fun in going it alone. The journey is too long and hard to do so.
Think about it. Even misanthropes would miss people. Then what else would there be for
them to hate?

I have no non-cliché ending for this. It’s too bad that most clichés have become
hackneyed material, because I’d certainly benefit from the had they not...

In any case, there’s more to this than what this essay has to offer. However, to preach a
solution to some problem, was never the purpose here. The purpose was to express.
Express a thought. To you, and everyone.

Try it.