Something I’ve been thinking about lately is the idea that we don’t really know what anything is for. Take a coffee cup, for example. More people would say it’s for drinking coffee, but I’ve used coffee cups for drinking tea and water. I’ve used coffee cups for decoration. Once I used a coffee cup as inspiration for a short story. Tonight I used one for holding my phone up so I could take a selfie. See? A coffee cup has multiple uses. I imagine you could use one for almost anything. Like–I don’t know–catching a cricket on carpet.

But not on tile. Unless, of course, your coffee cup is made plastic.

The reason I’m going into all this is because so often I think I know what something is for–or rather, I know what I want something to be for–and then am disappointed when it turns out it’s not for that thing at all. Years ago I used to host an annual swing dance event, and I thought it was for spreading the joy of Lindy Hop and (I always crossed my fingers) making money. And whereas it may have been for the first of these reasons, it certainly wasn’t for the second. Silly me. One thing it may have been for, however, was bringing people together. For example, I know a couple who met for the first time at one of my events. As I was fretting about paying the bills, they were flirting. Now they’re married and have children.

I remember when the idea for that event was first suggested to me by another dance instructor. I thought, Sure, why not? What the hell? That sounds like fun. For the next three months I and several other people planned and plotted, worked our little butts off. Just so this couple could meet and start a family? Of course not. Coffee cups have multiple uses. In addition to being a flirting station, the event also spread the joy of dance, and on a personal note, allowed me to meet another couple who later became loyal students, dear friends, and mentors of sorts. But was that first couple having a place to meet part of the reason the whole affair needed to happen? I like to think so. I think to think everything is connected.

Along these lines of connection, I think a lot about the most important people in my life and how–in more than one circumstance–I met them through other people I no longer talk to, people I’ve fallen out with. My point being that no matter what my individual disagreements have been with these “introducers,” I can’t very well make the case that they are unimportant in my life or haven’t been “for” anything when obviously they have been. (To be clear, I don’t think anyone else’s life is just about me and my experiences with them.) If I hadn’t had my swing dance event, who’s to say whether or not those two lovers would have met? If my ex-friend hadn’t introduced me to my other friend who changed my life for the better, who’s to say whether or not my life would have been changed?

Our natural tendency, of course, is to make everything about us. Yesterday I worked backstage for the national tour of The Color Purple and noticed I had all these fantasies going into it–about being praised for my good work, about being noticed (and proposed to) by any number of the hot guys who were there, about–somehow–the whole thing launching the rest of my life. (For a temp job, it’s a lot to ask, I know.) But we do this all the time. At least I do. I think, This could happen, and then this could happen. And it could. But when I consider every life-altering or even mildly pleasant experience I’ve ever had, I see now there’s no way I could have planned any of it. I’m not that smart. Not because I’m not smart, but because even the simplest of interactions has too many moving parts for me control.

Take yesterday, for example. Although I didn’t get proposed to, it was a truly fabulous day. I met and was blessed by so many kind people. Plus, the show itself was glorious, and it was good to have a small role in presenting it to my hometown. (What if THAT was part of why I was there, so someone in the audience–a total stranger–could have a good experience?) But I digress. Back to the idea of life having too many moving parts for me to control, just consider what all had to happen in order for me and all the kind people I met yesterday to be there at the same time, together. I know the relationships and opportunities that got me there started over a decade ago. A decade! Of course, if you’d asked me back then if my meeting so-and-so was about me working at a musical and having something to blog about ten years later, I would have thought you were smoking crack. But who’s to say it wasn’t?

Everything is connected.

More and more my advice to myself and others is to stop assuming that we know what anything was for, is for, or shall be for. We’ve all seen It’s a Wonderful Life, right? Isn’t it possible that your very presence on this earth (at your crummy job, in your dusty living room, on your blog) is currently having a positive effect on someone else? Is that so hard to believe? And so what if they never let you know? Yesterday I made a point to tell someone I met how they brightened my day, but with someone else who also made me laugh and feel appreciated, I didn’t. And yet the fact remains. Our paths crossed; we were changed. Maybe a little, maybe a lot. Only time will tell. Our lives and coffee cups are great mysteries.