All day I overhear Jonathan and his colleagues untangle the technology of computer conferencing. “Can you hear me?” “Can you see me?” The questions strike me as more than technological inquiries; they could be poignant expressions of our shared global distress.
Social isolation works its insidious torments quietly. Never has the world been forced so abruptly and completely to stop seeing each other, and like Romeo and Juliet, the prohibition only piques the yearning. Even introverts are beginning to feel the pinch. Even those whose work lives have risen to unprecedented screech levels prefer video conferencing over voice audio. Even those who have the company of family are missing the crush of the people on the subway, a serendipitous encounter in a grocery store aisle, the anonymity of getting lost in a crowd, the collision of bodies on a playing field, a chorus of “Amens,” a touch on the shoulder, a warm handshake, a high five. We crave connection with each other – auditory, visual, emotional, intellectual, spiritual, physical.
Media images are nailing it. Being alone is not a natural human condition, and we are hurting from it. Can you hear me? Can you see me?
My 60th year in 60,000 words
Day 220: 195 words, TOTAL = 35,965; 24,035 remaining
Robin Clifford Wood is an award-winning author, poet, and writing teacher. She lives in central Maine with her husband, loves to be outdoors, and enjoys ever-expanding horizons through her children, grandchildren, and granddogs.