That overwhelming feeling.
When you touch a letter written by a loved one. The feeling that their hand would’ve moved over the same paper.
The same paper. Your hand is resting on then.
That intense… something… you feel. That shiver down your spine.
Or when you use the clothes your beloved wore.
Or hold the things they used.
To feel that they touched the same thing. That their hand was where yours is right now.
To feel that ‘connection’, in that moment.
But the universe doesn’t stop there.
It is much more generous than this.
These things, letters, books, pens, shirts become tools.
But that’s not all.
The universe, itself, jumps in.
And the universe, itself, becomes the tool.
You look up, and the breath-taking sky. The sea of stars.p
And how it gently sinks in.
That somewhere, the beloved is looking at the exact same sky. The same sea of stars.
The same vastness.
And so you are connected.
By the universe itself.