The person I connected with most this weekend dropped me at George Bush “Intergalactic” Airport around 7:45 this morning. As I passed through security (”it’s a microphone, not a dildo”), the weekend clicked into place for me. Spending more than 30 hours with a group of people over 2.5 days results in a sense of “bonding” that, I can describe most clearly in Buddhist terms. It’s called “non-duality.”

Startup Weekend reminds me of all the things I loved about Bible camp as a kid, without all of the awkward relationship dynamics (read: vertical dry humping outside the cafeteria) that creep in over the summer. There are no icebreakers, no bonding exercises nor questionnaires at Startup Weekend, yet we manage to connect quickly and, in many instances, intimately. (Hopefully not so intimately as we did during those long summers).

This intimacy comes from a number of elements. In a world where remote employees work from home or the airplane (where I am right now), sharing a physical space with strangers takes only a few hours to get accustomed to. It’s like getting back to a natural state of balance with our fellow humans. We share tables, our wires create tangled messes on the floor beneath our feet, drinks are spilled onto one another’s computers. Connections are made in the early stages of the game. They last well beyond the weekend, because they’re genuine and, often, loving.

The sticky substance that holds this, and other businesses, together? Connection (love?). And recognizing that the person in the “PR Department” is working just as hard as you, wrestling with the same questions and clients. In the case of SW you look across the room and see that this is the case. You see that they’re not so different from you.

Is it such a leap to say that they are, indeed, you?

On a cognitive level, non-duality is easy to grasp. Every flower, every microchip, every person on the planet, is connected to you. Is you. Think about it. The atoms in your body aren’t “yours.” The air you inhale and exhale is shared with the people sitting on the plane with you. Global warming has made this phenomenon clear in a startling way. Each action we take, however small, impacts the people around us. Depending on our influence, that could be a great many.

When we were seeing others as ourselves this weekend, we were able to accomplish goals, meet deadlines and communicate. When we were seeing others as “other,” (as in, “why the fuck hasn’t UI gotten mockups to the Creatives yet?”) disharmony pervaded, tempers flared and, in the rare instance, feelings were hurt. In traditional workplaces, deep rifts develop this way. Seeing you as I see myself, I relax and let you take an idea and run with it, rather than attempting to wrest the idea from you and claim credit for myself. When you succeed, so do I.

Another way to look at non-duality, if this all sounds too woo woo for you, is to to think of a time when you’ve been in flow or at your peak performance. When you’re in flow, you unite with the object you seek. Playing Halo 3, for instance, you become the controller. And the screen. And the objects before your eyes. Being there, you don’t want to leave that place of harmony and non-dual experience. Do you?

A teacher once explained to me that love is simply two (I would add “plus”) people sharing a flow experience. Create environments where people can find their flow, eliminate competition (non-attachment to outcomes) and encourage the coffee spilling. Non-duality is what’s there (when we’re able to see it) when group flow happens around the world, in every pocket and dip, everywhere.

A motherboard short is, in comparison, a small price to pay.