There Was a Lack, Just Not What We Thought.

 Having endured Zoom in the Spring when we did triage teaching, having a virtual classroom in the Fall is not significantly different.  Time grinds to a halt in terms of the give and take of lessons or conversation.  At the same time, when work is required, time superaccellerates and by the end of the day, no matter who you are, you feel aged.   

I view this time of long distance education as preparation for that day when we opt to leave this planet.  We will have to endure long spans of hours without variety, in which strenous exercise and getting out is not a serious reality.  I have learned if I wasn't already sure, that I will be staying here.  

Food therapy has limitations and we've met and exceeded them.   
No amount of mindfulness, stretches or fun videos substitutes for the sheer variety of going somewhere else.   

There is one possible bright spot from this now six month long haitus from actual reality lived out in the actual world...we may shed our addiction to screens because they bore us as never before. 

Every day, I'm picking up a book and reading, going outside and walking, and art and writing with a pen holds a greater alure than the keyboard.   The reality is, we want a reality we're not having, even when we're doing boring things like bills or errands.

We want the tangible part of life we've had removed.  What we're all keenly aware of, is the lack.   
Wearing a mask is necessary, but it's the visible reminder of the lack.   Social distancing is necessary, but it's the physical and social reminder of the lack.  

Driving to get a little something for my youngest son, he reminded me to put on the mask in the drive-thru. He also punched in the phone number when I gave him the digits one by one...and I realized, these sort of moments wouldn't happen outside of the Covid-19 restrictions.  For him, this time with all of his family has meant he learned to ride a bike, to check out groceries using the self checker and bag them, to use the computer to mute and to show video on Zoom, to play video games with his siblings like Brawl, how to take a shower all by himself, how to wash his hair.  He's learned how to work with his Dad in the garden, and how to set the the table or clear it, and load or unload the dishwasher.  He's learned to feed the turtles and how to get out the ingredients for grilled cheese or for scrambled eggs.  He's become fully potty trained, and he knows how to make a bed even if he doesn't always do it.   He can hang a coat on a hanger.  He can operate the television better than me.  He takes down the garbage and can bring out the recycling.  All these ordinary skills came from having spools of uninterrupted time, where we couldn't exchange the present for efficiency.  

Perhaps it wasn't the lack that was missing, but us from the present.