I sit here staring out the window. It is a cold and sunless day. The sky is a solid sheet of gray.
There isn't a leaf moving out there. It's like the world said "shhh" and nature listened.
This morning I sat in a doctor's office. I noted that every single person in there was on their "smart" phone. Mothers sat texting, while their children played.
So remote. Being on the periphery of someone's attention. They would jostle their mother's sleeve. "Just a minute. Just a minute."
I feel sorry for the children. They are the casualties of today's technology.
I sat thinking how nice it would be to go sit in a coffee shop and have a steaming cup of hot coffee. But I know I won't do that. The cell phones and constant one-ended conversations would ruin it for me.
People don't think of who is sitting next to them anymore. They carry on a conversation as though they're in a room alone. I hear snippets of their lives I don't want to be privy to. But I have no choice in the matter.
So I'll just go home and fix a cup and enjoy it in peace.
Gone are the days when you could shop in relative comfort, in a relaxed state of mind. You now have to be on the alert for motorized carts, and people staring down at cell phones and paying no attention to where they are going.
While mutilating the English language with their chopped sentences and abbreviated words.
For someone who loves words, this is bothersome. How on earth are children going to learn how to spell and speak properly?
I sit at traffic lights and it is the same story. On almost every corner, the driver is immersed in a phone call or has their head bowed texting someone. Someone honks when the light turns green.
What is so important that it can't wait until they're out of traffic? Or until they can say it in person?
It is an impersonal world. Murky with all the generations trying to meld together. And they all have their own observations, from vastly different viewpoints. And varied shades of time.
I guess that's why I don't go out much. I miss the old days. When an outing was enjoyed.
Now I hurry through whatever errand I have, and quickly head back to the inner sanctum where it is quiet and peaceful.
We are, all of us, merely the sum of our parts. We are made up of experiences of both good times and bad. Life molds us like a piece of clay. We are who we are because of DNA and heredity. And sometimes happenstance.
Genetics loads the gun of our existence as we attempt to navigate this world.
But it is inevitably environment and experiences that end up pulling the trigger.
I pull into the driveway, relieved. I am now an anachronism in the world out there.
The world I knew and often long for just resides in my memory. And it won't be coming back to town.