Lifeless mitten lays in wait. Abandoned, stiff atop a crunchy snow bank. The sidewalk passes by, unknowing. Throbbing red fingers, a child’s frostbitten hand, shiver beneath a coat sleeve. Somewhere. Seeking warmth, comfort against winter’s harsh reality.
Unclaimed. A mitten separated from its purpose. We all, young and older, leave pieces of ourselves scattered throughout time. Paperbacks, pens, sunglasses, yoga mats, carelessly or accidentally discarded. A laundromat sock with no mate.
Possessions or promises, more lost than found. Feelings, emotions cast astray. Hopelessly lost. A lone mitten, pieces of ourselves. Where do we go when a bit of us is missing, when our purpose is unrealized?
Where then, when we seek warmth. are we? Waiting to be reunited with missing parts? Another hand to hold? Another day. Our fingers still numb, the lone mitten still there. The sidewalk passes by. We remain incomplete.
Globalization was once the buzzword of politicians, business leaders and various masters of the universe; a term used to signify the potential for growth and prosperity sold to us, at one time, as a most favourable destination.
We, as a society (and not only that of the Western world), bought into the theory, the practice, and then the reality. We began to think past local, provincial and national, and began to look globally.
Now, amidst the expansion and contraction of rationalizations and realizations, we can only question if we have come too far too fast. The stress cracks have been noticeable over the past few decades as economies merged and borders vanished.
At one point everything looked good and the potential for peace and promise became more than possibility. We began to see the world respond to the tragedies and calamities on the other side of the globe. As technologies increased and access to a greater range of media became more readily available, we began to see results as everything, everywhere, became virtual reality as swiftly as it was broadcast.
There was a wave of kindness and charity countering a tsunami, and worldwide aid rushing in response to drought and famine, and terrorism. You could, many times over, have greater faith in humankind, and could believe, over and again, that the world was growing smaller and we were becoming this global village often talked about.
Our virtues and values were fortified. We both celebrated and commiserated with strangers. Commonalities with people of other places, faiths, and circumstance, became obvious and readily available. ‘Friends’ took on a new meaning.
But with any group of people, in any limited space, the walls started closing in. We now see, at closer range, the faults of our newfound brethren. Jealousies, differences, and indifference, grew more common as forthright opinion filled our minds and media.
We could see it, hear it, loathe it, and then (with such easy access to this amazing thing called the Internet) complain about it.
Day to day in the globalized news, we are bombarded with concerns, conspiracy theories, innuendo, false truths and alternative facts. We quickly learn about this planet’s atrocities before the bloodstains have even dried on the sidewalks or prayer rugs. We listen to the firsthand hatred of the bigots and bullies with the frequency of weather forecasts.
And if you listen to it long enough, or deeply enough, you become sucked into the realm of anxiety and fear.
The cracks on the surface have never been more obvious and we find ourselves wondering where it can take us, and what should we do.
We can’t turn it off, it seems. Those who want to make their views known can do so with the do-it-yourself social media platforms like Twitter and Facebook, and they can do so with an unwritten protocol and mispronounced shame.
I, too, can and do, right here. But, I like to think I exercise responsibility if not common sense and respect. I can’t say everyone has the same sort of moral compass. I can also be ignored, or avoided, if that is your choice.
It is difficult to avoid the proliferation of bullshit and bad judgement that seeps through the cracks of the conveniences we have come to rely upon. It is impossible to think of simply steeping away from the virtual behaviour that has become an integral part of our lives. We source our news online, we shop online, bank online, we communicate and carry on online.
Now, while this planet is screaming with pain, is not the time for complacency, but more a time to be more selective with what you read or follow. There are things happening that will impact our lives in ways we cannot fathom, and you should not be swayed by image and entertainment value.
Take stock of what is important to you. Find channels or themes that might bolster your spirits rather than deplete your emotional well-being. You cannot settle with only what is on the surface, but don’t get caught in the cracks.
Restless now. Really for months, an urge a need, to do something. Feel something. An interest in objects, as much as anything. Certain things mark a time. A sugar bowl, a cookie tin; items, almost sacred. Empty, at a glance, yet brimming with moments.
Grandmother long gone, she now finds herself in a place. Voices. Ushered forward by a child, young woman now, and held back by memories. Her flesh, her blood, those who raised her. Comfort. Restless still. Words and thoughts, she wants to write.
She wants to write, but never has. Not like this. Father’s firm disposition, a mother’s tenderness, a voice that softened her reality. She wants to write, like she wants to believe. Decisions made, not regretted, but pondered. The ink is fresh, the pen permanent.
A snap of memories, broken, diminished joys not of parenthood, but of partners. She wants to write about love; past and present and perhaps more. She wants to write like she wants to breathe. Ink flows smoothly. Her blood. History always an interest, this is more personal.
Shameless, blameless admissions, only to herself and a page presenting itself as a stranger. Now it offers its skin as a lover. The smooth, thick pen, heavy and hard between her fingers, finds a rhythm. An object desired. She wants to write, like she wants to feel. She has, and will again.
Never like this. Minute details reiterate her faults. The pen’s nib, ever constant, captures lives left behind, but still within. If only her heart, if not in her life. The pen moves forward, she still there. Now. Every letter, each stanza reveals a voice. A need. She wants to write, like she wants to bleed.
Loneliness has been romanticized, hypothesized, criticized, and realized time and again, for years and years, and still it exists as it never has before. It is an isolating condition we all, I believe, have experienced at one (or many) points in our lives. A Minister of Loneliness has been appointed in the United Kingdom to address social isolation across all age groups. Loneliness has been aligned with so many mental illnesses that it may itself be one of the most widely-spread mental ailments of all time. Being lonely is depressing; in fact, it can be both the cause and result of depression. We don’t really talk about it. It takes a certain strength to speak about loneliness, and you don’t have that strength if you are lonely. Loneliness is easy; you can do it all by yourself. But you don’t need to be alone to be lonely. You can easily feel alone in a city full of strangers, or with a small group of friends, anywhere, or any time. I have been lonely, in different stages, at different times in my life. It feels lonely just to write it down, but you cannot address a personal issue unless you are prepared to admit to it. Loneliness is a state of mind, a sign of the times, and can be one of the greatest conundrums. Not always emptiness, loneliness can be the result, or the cause, of anxiety. Loneliness can take you deep inside your mind, or your mind can lead you to loneliness. Fear of being alone can only make you lonelier, the effects felt from the brain through the body. It is confusing. In a world where there are more people than ever; at a time when communication is more accessible, (if not instant), the state of loneliness has never been more present. Still, loneliness is one of those topics many people will not speak about. Overcoming loneliness cannot be as simple as simply saying ‘find a friend’, or ‘talk about it’, but it can be a start. Let’s talk. Let’s see. Know when the feeling isn’t right, and begin there.
