Reflecting in the shadow of a thought.

Sunlight filters through the leaves, dancing along the paths of a bustling park in the heart of a city that never sleeps. Seated on a bench, I observe the ceaseless flow of existences passing before me: fragments of stories, whispers of lives that for a moment intertwine with mine, before disappearing again into the anonymity of the crowd.

My thoughts float free, without a specific destination, pondering the nature of these fleeting connections. What binds us to one another? Each person who passes carries with them a story, a complex inner universe, which eludes any attempt at simplistic classification.

As my mind wanders through these reflections, a thought emerges clearly:

"In every individual, there is an essence that transcends gender categories, an indivisible core that is, above all, human."

Before I can fully grasp this insight, I realize someone has sat next to me. An elderly man, whose eyes convey an intensity that forces me to pause. Without me having to speak a word, he seems to respond to my silent thoughts:

"That essence you speak of, is what makes us whole, beyond superficial divisions."

Surprised, I turn towards him, seeking an explanation. But the man continues, as if reading directly from my mind:

"Have you ever considered that, before we are defined by what distinguishes us, we exist in a state of pure potentiality?"

The dialogue that follows is a weave of questions and answers that touch upon the thread of existentialism, a mirror game between my quest for understanding and his enigmatic responses. We talk about identity, love, human connections, without ever naming philosophers or specific theories. It's as if, in this exchange, the entire universe is reduced to the bench we're seated on, an island of reflection amidst the chaos of the city.

As twilight envelops the park, the elderly man by my side breaks the silence:

"Have you ever heard of the original beings? They were complete creatures, with four arms, four legs, and two faces. They were neither male nor female but a perfect balance of both. They were so powerful and self-sufficient that the gods, fearing their strength, decided to divide them."

His words prompt me to reflect: if before the division we were complete beings, beyond male and female, then our search might not be for the other in a strict sense, but for a return to a completeness that knows no genders, a primordial unity that contains us all.

As darkness deepens and the man walks away, I remain seated with a new sense of awareness. In this brief exchange, I've glimpsed the possibility of a broader understanding of existence, one that goes beyond the divisions created by society. The conversation, though brief, has offered me a flash of insight into the original unity of being, an intuition that transcends categorizations and invites us to reconsider what it means to be complete.

And so, in the silence that follows, I realize that, in a sense, this reflection has brought me closer to the essence of what Plato, through the myth, sought to communicate: a call to recognize and celebrate the intrinsic unity that precedes every division.