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TMR // It’s about time.
As we roll into the eighth month of life in Pandemia™ (it’s a time, it’s a place, it’s a handle I stole from a friend of mine), we continue to play this game of “poke the bear” with Coronavirus, while trying to adapt to our evolving reality. And while I have little problem accepting the inconvenience of hanging a mask around my neck, I have other inconveniences that hang around my neck like an albatross.
In the before times, I would be perfectly happy writing in a cafe, strolling thru an art gallery, sketching in the park, or watching a band from the edge seat at the bar, solo, talking to no one but surrounded by… everyone.
Just feeling the vibe of the people around me was enough to feel connected to the world, providing a brief respite from the daily stresses.
This past week I ventured into Pandemia™ to do many of those same things — a visit to the reopened SFMOMA, a walk thru Golden Gate park, lazing a beer (or two) while writing in a covid-configured beer garden, and realized that all the rituals I used to use to de-stress were now causing distress.
It turns out the part of me that struggles to feel safely connected to the world is instead preoccupied with the constants of time — exposure time, check in time, length of time at a table, amount of time in enclosed spaces, amount of time in proximity to strangers, presentation time, meeting time, all limitations of time.
It has forced every interaction I experience to become merely a transactional one, leaving me little time for discovery, for reflection, for letting things happen in their own time.
Lets just add that to the list of sh!t to fix in 2021.
Now go vote.
