Heart to Heart

"No man is an island, entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main. If a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as well as if a manor of thy friend's or of thine own were: any man's death diminishes me, because I am involved in mankind, and therefore never send to know for whom the bells tolls; it tolls for thee."

~John Donne

Devotions upon Emergent Occasions, no. 17 (Meditation)

1624 (published)

Forgive me as I lapse into a philosophical and reflective mode...it helps me deal with emotions.

* * *

I remember reading the above poem in my 11th-grade high school English class.

My teacher's name was Mrs. Bullock, and she loved English literature...and anything having to do with England.

She always told us it was her dream to go to England to visit all the places she'd read about in literature...and to see the places where the authors and poets lived and walked and broke bread.

I think her love of English literature was contagious because she certainly fostered a deep love for it in my own heart. She made you think about what you were reading.

She said, "No man is an island..."

But why?

Because we're all a part of each other -- somehow connected through different events or bloodlines or interests -- a piece of the main. Perhaps our paths cross by accident...perhaps we never ever meet. Perhaps a similar interest links us...perhaps it's "just because."

Like it or not, we're connected because we care about each other -- about mankind in general. Whether or not we were birthed by or gave birth to someone, it makes no difference. We care. We care about those we pass on the streets, those we see through the windows of a cafe, those we meet online, and those we read about in the magazines and newspapers or see on the TV.

One of my favorite actors, Kiefer Sutherland, started his jail time tonight. 48 days in jail. Doesn't seem like much, but it means he'll be free again towards the end of January. Nearly 7 weeks.

I felt in shock... I knew it was coming and I know it's for the better, where he's concerned. But already? Then I felt like crying. I'm not really sure why. I don't know him personally. (I met him once but that hardly counts.) And I'm not likely to see him around my town.

So why did it affect me so?

I explained the situation to my daughter.

She felt in shock... She also knew about his jail time coming (we've had many meaningful conversations about the whole DUI event). She wasn't sure why. She didn't know him personally either. And she's not likely to see him wandering the streets of our town.

So why did it affect her, too?

Because, as I explained to her, we're all inter-connected in some way. Like kindred spirits, we feel the "pain" of each other in an inexplicable way that comes merely from caring.

And while we know he's doing what has to be done, we feel sad for him, too.

Sad for his family. Sad that he'll spend his birthday and the holidays in jail. Sad for his loss of freedom. Sad that it took this to get his attention...

But glad that he's accepting it. Glad that he can grow from it and come out a better person. Glad that we can grow from it, too, and learn something about ourselves and all the others out there in Hollywood.

No matter what our job is or where we live, we're all just people -- flesh and blood with a whole bunch of emotions mixed in.

And going back to what my English teacher taught us: No man is an island. Pathos connects us with little strings that go from heart to heart, making us like paper-chain dolls.

"Therefore never send for whom the bell tolls; it tolls for thee."

I learned in my 11th-grade year what it meant to "feel the pain" of another, even one I did not know that well.

Mrs. Bullock, our teacher, died of cancer half-way through that year.

We didn't know she was so sick. She was only in her mid-50s. She said she had the flu. She had two daughters and a husband whom she left behind. We didn't know her well, but we felt the grief of her family losing their loved one and the sadness of unrealized dreams.

She never did make it to England....but I thought of her often when I lived there two years later.

I still think of her.

No man is an island...