enlightenment

            There’s not enough time… there’s not enough time to read and write everything that one wants to. When the Covid pandemic came along at the end of 2019 and caused a lockdown in 2020, it gave us something of a warning… a lesson and a warning and an opportunity. A lesson in how to slow down and stop being so stupid. A warning that things could be much worse. An opportunity to change and to make things so much better. We were offered the opportunity to carve out a work/life balance, to stop filling the roads with traffic, to avoid complicated social situations that filling offices with people forced together brings. An opportunity to be more productive and more creative, freeing time to read and write whilst also working effectively. I used to spend the time I had previously spent commuting reading books (I commuted on a bus and couldn’t read due to severe motion sickness). I would spend my lunch break reading or walking whereas, before, in the office, I had spent it sitting awkwardly at a dirty table talking to people who were only there because they had to be. Many companies relocated to Dallas because of easier tax laws and lower rental costs… the migrants drove up the price of everything and brought waves of traffic, now I go out for a beer and listen to locals complain about this. My view is this: close most offices. Turn them into residential property. Make downtowns fun and cultural, so that people want to flock downtown for enjoyment and enlightenment and not because they have to go to some miserable office and hate their lives but ‘bring business to the downtown area.’ If your commute and your time is merely to make landlords rich, then there is something deeply wrong with this planet. 

 Tonight I saw my mother’s Instagram account… she had only ever posted one photo and it was her and I standing near the beach in Margate, South Africa, next to the old Wimpy. That was early 2018. Five years later we would go to that spot once again… for the last time. The last time we were there I was pushing her in a wheelchair. I recall pushing her up a narrow path alongside the water. The path was strewn with local artists, craftsmen and women selling their wares. I bought a painting of a town for a woman I had not yet met, and my mother loved it. She loved the painting, and she loved the process of discussing and selecting the painting. It has not even been three weeks yet and I miss her terribly. I miss sharing photos and stories of our days. I feel like I complained a lot to her, and she listened to me… even though her suffering and struggles were much greater than mine. 

            People tried to call me to talk to me after my mother’s death… but it just seemed strange to see the phone ringing with names of people I had not spoken to for 20 years or more. I couldn’t answer. Then I felt guilty for ignoring them. I am one of the people who now uses a phone for anything but phone calls. I only call one person, for some reason, that is my friend, Gary, in England. Everyone else I text. My parents I always called on Skype or voice messaged in WhatsApp. My father and I now have video calls almost daily in Microsoft Teams and we voice message each other in WhatsApp. When someone randomly calls me out of the blue I feel as if it is too much of an intrusion… a commitment that I am not prepared for. When I think about this, I feel bad and wonder if I have some serious issues… or do the callers have serious issues?