haphazard humdrum

Call me of being a hopeless sentimentalist, a romantic from some other time, and you’ll be in chorus with many others. Read into my writing below as always finding a bright spot and you may not be too far off. Accuse my idealism of being useless, of pandering to a non-existent reality? You’ll find me shaking my head at your point of view. Life, simply, is too short.
There is a benefit to our isolation here. As much we may be frustrated by routine, by the same surroundings and people day after day, we are free of a great many things we are not back home. The media does not relentlessly drone on, circulating its limited voice. The advents of consumerism, torrents of messages promoting materialism, vice, and escape aren’t pounding daily past our ears.
In seeing such familiar surroundings over and over, in building habits of schedule by way of work as much as by nature, in caring for our home as part of our livelihood we escape a great many concerns. We play the game on a level field – all of us necessary in some way for the well-being and smooth running of our community.
So here we sit, isolated and frustrated, bored and steady. That which doesn’t matter doesn’t press us here. That which does, be it good or bad, has the luxury of our full attention.
And in that, our full attention, I find idealism. Our emotions and reactions can come to fruition without worrying about the next meal, a broken car, rent…we are free to understand them, to embrace them without a great deal of the concerns of the real world. We suffer our limits – just ask any one here with a family member back home struggling with a problem or a disease, with anyone back home who has passed away. We suffer our limits but we have great freedom to learn, to understand, to explore. We have incredible opportunities to be open to small changes as events to be noticed, for the rarified aspects of life and memory to be celebrated.
Maybe all we offer in return is a smile or a nod but life here resets the filters, realigns the perspective. I imagine, returning to the world at large, ignoring a great deal of the unnecessary. I imagine noticing a great deal more of what matters.
On the geologic time scale, all of recorded history is no more than the blink of an eye. No sense wasting what little we have to share.

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