I’m living in a 2-dimensional world.
The keys clack gently and I respond to another thread.
What’s the plan for Inquiry next week?
Can you respond to that parent email?
We need to strategize to streamline our communication.
All consciousness, all ideas, all trapped in a 13-inch screen. Unraveling, before me.
And I realize before too long that I’m not feeling so hot.
Don’t worry friends, it’s not COVID. There’s just no pep in my step.
Week 7 of Distance Learning on Monday. The novelty is gone and the ups and downs of this wave take their toll. Three weeks ago the promise of kids, in class, together at last.
But now as the first cases have been identified here, DL continues, and the school, and the world, have withdrawn.
Streets, always bustling, lay dormant.
People draw in.
Of course, in a city of 9 million, there will still be people about. And in a city of 9 million, for the overwhelming majority, life goes on.
I’m craving people, real people. Real life. Not the kind trapped behind this screen.
So I close it.
Open the door, and step outside.
With one breath and three steps, the gentle breeze teasing the tree above me, the neighbor’s dog growling his usual gentle hello, and the children passing on bikes reassure me.
I’m living in a 3-dimensional world.