I was listening to a podcast that was discussing how we’re all tangled up in one another, on a quantum level. Our particles are interacting. We affect each other in ways we’re not always aware of, and our original quantum entanglement occurred when we were literally part of another person — our mother.
How absolutely perfectly amazing is that description? Entanglement. That is exactly the truth that I’ve lived, mostly without understanding it.
I was and am entangled with my first mother. I am also, by virtue of sharing space, breath, and life, entangled with the family that raised me. I am entangled with the people I choose to spend my time with as an adult, even the annoying ones I didn’t exactly choose. We are entangled.
And when we are separated from an entanglement without our consent or choice, we remain tangled until we sort out the unfinished business. This is true of breakups, friendships that end, deaths we were prepared for or not, and of adoption. In this worldview, adoption is just one of many entanglements we incur by virtue of existing, as masses of particles, in this world, but it is different in that we were taught to pretend that that particular entanglement never existed. And so we tangle ourselves trying to figure that one out.
I never felt abandoned. I always felt lost. In seeking, I found this explanation that I’m still sorting out, but if you’d like to listen to the podcast, it was Invisibilia: Entanglement.