Yes, of course, John Donne got it perfectly right: The death of any other diminishes me. Please know that this was not the fruit of a narcissist's ruminations, but rather a sacred truth pointing to our interconnectedness. Donne was a sensitive soul who understood that not only the passing of those dear to us diminish our lives, but all loss does--the postal carrier, the sanitation worker, the toll collector, the high school math teacher who tutored dozens of kids over a 40 year career.
What is it that is lost when anyone dies? I'm not sure I dare to admit the truth to myself. If it is, indeed, true that each of us is interconnected by virtue of the fact that all living is relationship, then when another dies, I die too. What in me dies? It can't be love, it can't be innocence, as these, I have come to see, are indestructible. What is it then?
motionless on the sidewalk
had my buzz