Web

A translucent web of complex connections and centrifugal notions exists between my own brain, and those other minds I have grappled with. Professors, bosses, speakers, lovers—those I've had live conversations with, but those minds, also, that have lived on, long after the decay of their actual matter. Emerson. Thoreau. Fuller. Blake. I stumbled—-mostly blind—-through the tangle of English courses and was surprised to find myself inhaling the sticky philosophy of the “Over-Soul” and spiritual manifestation in the material. Trapped in the glistening fibers of long woven articulation, I fought arduously to understand the fashion of my binds, to discover from whence it came, where it was going, and the figuring in between. (The figuring, of course, is easier to speculate at, then to actually chew. The dizzying illumination of metaphor and allusion helps to taste transcendental thought, but can also intimidate, with the overwhelming saturation of syntax).
I have learned that there is much to learn—from both minds past and present. I can remember an instance when I was 6 years old. I struggled to make light of the cryptic words on a VHS tape. I brought it to my Abuelo, who did not speak English with ease. With heavy Cuban pronunciation, he read “Charlotte's Web,” but I failed to grasp the meaning of his words. Despite our closeness in relation, our minds were separated by a stretch of sixty years and blocked by the barrier of language and a fading culture. I understand, now, the necessity of branching one's web to include the wider array of human thought and understanding, as there is an infinity of human spiritual growth. The interconnectedness of minds and relations, when knit together, may bind all of humanity into a great unification of understanding.