Scattered thoughts

Without sounding unduly holistic and granola spiritual, I was thinking today about the energy that people put forth. I know that sounds just so airy fairy, and I usually like to think of myself as being such a pragmatic, down-to-earth kind of gal, but I don't know what other words to employ.

I've just returned from a visit to a funeral home. I really don't understand the purpose of having an open casket; the absence of one's being speaks volumes in the presence of what has been left behind. It simply serves to reminds us of what and who we are missing. In this particular instance, I kept marvelling over how small the body seemed absent the man's expansive personality. I remember the first time I paid a condolence call to the bereaved parents of a schoolmate at the age of fourteen. I was struck by how the body, although arranged to look as if the former occupant was in peaceful repose, just seemed empty. It's weird how we can instinctively tell, even from a distance, the difference between a sleeping person and a dead one.

About two years ago, one of my cats died while in her sleep. At a glance, it was obvious that she wasn't peacefully slumbering away, but had passed into the great feline beyond. What is it that signals to us that what is left behind is but a shell? That who we are isn't defined by our bodies, but by something else less tangible and comprehensible.

The other day my eldest son slept over at his friend's. As soon as he'd left, the house felt substantially different. Of course, it was a bit quieter, but that wasn't the qualitative difference. There was a hole that he left in the general fabric of our household. Even my husband, who is more on the oblivious side sometimes, came home after all the kids were in bed asleep and commented how the house felt empty somehow. Interestingly enough, he'd forgotten about the arrangements that had been made and had no idea that we were less one child that night. So he was responding either to my attitude or to the absence of our son. Either way, he felt something in the air.

Have you ever been around someone and for some unknown reason couldn't stand them? For whatever reason, they just triggered an almost physical response of revulsion or discomfort? And of course, there's the opposite scenario in which you meet someone and instantly feel a connection.

So call it chemistry or energy or whatever term you'd like to use, but it's undeniably there, isn't it?

Having been raised in a very academic and scientifically inclined household, I can't help but refer back to my core sciences degree. I remember an amusing moment in my grade ten physics class when we were taught that one can calculate the electro-magnetic force between any two objects. To illustrate his point, our prof used me and this really nice but wholly unattractive guy who sat next to me. He plugged our body masses and the distance between the two of us into an equation to calculate the electrical attraction between us.

So, it's not an entirely crazy scenario then to assume that there are differing energies between people, is it?

Don't get me wrong, I don't automatically meet someone and make a decision about them. In general, I think I'm pretty easygoing and assume I'm going to like everyone, but there have been a few notable exceptions.

Many years ago, I met a guy through mutual acquaintances. He was intelligent, average looking and probably a nice enough man. But I never felt comfortable with him. It's difficult when you don't have anything upon which to base your immediate dislike of a person, other than he made my skin crawl everytime he came near me. I tried to be friends with him and even contemplated taking him on as a lover (to prove to myself that I could do it). In the end, I just had to cut all ties to him because I couldn't stand the man. I haven't any valid reasons which I can voice to bolster my decision. It's just that whatever energy he puts out there seems to clash with mine.

So, I'm back to that word again -- "energy". I know, I know ... it sounds like I'm some kind of yoga-licious, Birkenstock-sporting, vegan-loving, hemp-clad crazed woman.

But again ... when my kids were born, I remember thinking that I could have found them in the dark within a roomful of infants. Each one of them felt so different to the touch. My eldest son emanated an intensity unlike anything I've ever experienced, my daughter exuded strength and my youngest son oozed sweetness, amiability and affability from every pore.

I've got friends whom I call upon depending upon my mood and needs, because some have a calming air about them while others have an exciting one. I think it's fair to say that people's beings do occupy a certain space within the world. There is a certain emptiness when that energy is withdrawn. I guess the $64,000.00 question is where does the energy go?