World wide web . . .

I participated in a time/motion study when I was in junior high. I had to complete a simple task, making a sandwich in the kitchen, a process in which I had achieved a high degree of proficiency. The complicating factor was that I was required to take a roll of string along with me as I moved from counter to refrigerator to plate cabinet to silverware drawer, to floor and back, unrolling the string as I went. Each stop I made I had to tape the string down before I moved to the next stop. The result was a kite-string web filling the kitchen, attached to the counter, the refrigerator handle, the cabinet, the drawer, the floor and back and forth. Apparently my proficiency was not so efficient.

Life can be like that. In the living, we create connections and relationships as we move back and forth, person to person, place to place, task to task, creating a wonderful web. It certainly doesn't look so efficient.

Occasionally I need to step out of my web. As beautiful as it is, it can be tiring to negotiate through the web trying not to break any strings. One can almost get stuck. That's what vacations are supposed to be about. But there is no time for a vacation right now, so since I had to leave early yesterday morning anyway, I just stayed out of town for the day.

Anonymity can be a good thing. It is liberating to wander among crowds who don't know that one of the stops in your web was when you dropped the sandwich bread slice on the floor, peanut butter side down. . . and ate it anyway.

But it is impossible to escape the web, because it is much bigger than my little kitchen. We all create them as we move along, criss-crossing each other's path. As I try to step away from my web, I run smack dab into someone else's. Some strands run through many webs. Tornado experiences, financial problems, beautiful weather, Lady GaGa, there are common experiences that connect us. Hangover 2, for instance. I went to see it during my foray into anonymity. But there was community in that theater as much of the laughter was born of a common knowledge of the original Hangover, and a general perverted sense of humor. It is a good movie to see anonymously.

I guess I don't really want complete anonymity. Perhaps I want selective anonymity. I intentionally went to a church where I would see old friends. An old friend introduced me to his preacher whom I had never met. No strings attached. As she shook my hand she said, "I feel like I've met you before, we share a close friend . . ." So much for anonymity. But it made me feel good. Not anonymous at all.

So I don't really want anonymity. Because to get it I would have to drop my roll of string and never pick it back up.

And if I did that how would I find my way back?

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