Life expands and contracts at odd intervals. Barely a week ago, I was surrounded by thousands of robed graduates clad all in sky blue.  As our families watched our graduation ceremonies with swelling pride, we screamed our lungs out, knowing the diplomas for which we had toiled so long were within reach  and, at last and, it seemed the world finally belonged to us. The last shred of confetti has been swept aside, the last tear shed and I spent this afternoon trying  to cram my entire life into two suitcases.

By this time tomorrow I will be airborne, and somewhere high above the Gulf of Mexico, I will be carrying the notion that the world is a much smaller place than even optimists would care to imagine. In my idealized Sao Paulo, a verdant oasis of urbanity, heavy with the weight of 21 million souls, technology is creating a world where distance has finally been conquered and the planet as we know it is being changed forever. I’m not a technovangelist, by any stretch, but I can’t ignore what I see.

With just a few tools in my arsenal of social media, I have already contacted complete strangers who are willing to accomodate me on their couch at no charge. I have read the blogs, seen the portfolios and followed the Twitter streams that prove to me we have much in common. My friend Kevin calls his friend network the “global village,” because in London, Chicago, New York or Tel Aviv, he has friends who are always willing to put him up, or lookout for a friend in need. With technology, we live in a global village where our friends know each other, and we didn’t even know.

The wealth of the 21st Century will belong to those with the deepest and most vast social connections as technology continues to break down barriers and allow for exchange of ideas globally. Maybe I’m on a flight of fancy, but one thing is for sure. If I don’t get some sleep, I’m gonna be in sorry shape tomorrow when it’s game time.