Remembering Our Interconnectivity With Everything

We live in a time that often makes us feel separate from one another, from the Earth, and even from our own bodies. However, the truth is that we are never alone. We are deeply and intimately woven into the fabric of life itself. In this blog post, I aim to explore how mindfulness and curiosity can help us remember the truth of interconnection, not as an abstract idea, but as something we can feel in our breath, in our bones, and in the natural rhythm of life around us.

The Nature of Interbeing 

Thich Nhat Hanh coined the term "interbeing" to describe this web of interconnectedness. He reminded us that we can’t exist independently. As he says, just look at one piece of paper: in that sheet are the clouds that brought the rain, the sun that nourished the trees, the logger, the truck driver, the hands that crafted it. Nothing is truly separate. Mindfulness practice helps us see that we are nature, not visitors to it. Every inhale is a gift from the trees. Every meal is the result of sun, soil, rain, and the labor of many hands. Even the stories we carry were passed to us through relationships. This truth of interconnection is not sentimental—it’s biological, ecological, and psychological. We thrive in community. We suffer in isolation. And this knowing lives not only in our hearts but in our bodies.

The Role of Mindfulness and Curiosity 

Mindfulness invites us to approach our lived experience without flinching. To really notice what is happening in the body, in the heart, in the mind, and the world around us. Curiosity is what makes this possible. Without curiosity, mindfulness can become rigid or mechanical. But with curiosity, it’s alive. It’s open. We begin to look at each sensation, each thought, and each interaction with a kind of reverence and interest. And through this attentiveness, we see how connected we are. We notice the way our breath changes when we hear birdsong. The way our mood shifts in response to the weather. The way another person’s suffering stirs something in our own heart. Curiosity brings warmth and wonder. And wonder breaks down the illusion of separation.

Finding Our Place in the Web of Life 

Mindfulness isn’t just about attention—it’s about belonging. When we are mindful, we start to reclaim our place in the family of all beings. We remember that we are a body, not just a mind riding around in one. And that this body is made of earth, water, fire, and air. Just like everything else. When we walk in the forest, we begin to feel kinship with the trees. When we hear the rain, we may sense it as a relative, washing and nourishing the world. Even in a city or in hardship, interconnection is present. The air still fills our lungs. Food still arrives, grown and gathered by countless unseen hands. Even pain can remind us of our shared human vulnerability.

A Word from Contemporary Science 

Interestingly, contemporary neuroscience is now confirming what contemplative traditions have taught for centuries. Studies on mirror neurons show that our brains are wired for connection—we literally feel each other. Polyvagal theory suggests our nervous systems seek safety through co-regulation, not isolation. And research on the default mode network reveals that the sense of a separate, fixed self is more of a habit of the brain than a truth. So, even from a scientific lens, the self is not a sealed container but an ever-changing process in relationship with everything.

Embodied Contemplation 

Let’s try a short reflection together:

Close your eyes, if they’re not already closed. Let the breath be natural.

Sense the breath as part of the air around you—coming in, going out—no boundary.

Feel your feet or your seat on the ground. Connected. Held.

Bring to mind something non-human—perhaps a tree, a stream, a bird.

Sense how you are not separate from it. It breathes, it needs shelter, it is affected by the world—just like you.

Say gently in your mind: “We belong to each other.

Let this remembering soften you. Let it open your eyes to the wonder of every moment. With mindfulness and curiosity, we come home—not to a place, but to the truth of who we are: expressions of a vast, interwoven life.