Substitutions

Substitutions: Tree 1 and Tree 2

Hello . . . Today has become a day for substitutions, this for that. Finding a way to make-due when you don't have the thing you want. I lived this type of life for a long time when I was younger, but that was a different me in a different time. Leaning back into that time and place doesn't work well today. Today, substitution is not easy.

Since the advent of COVID19 this year, even the word substitution or replacement has taken on new meaning.

First it was substituting mayo for eggs, when eggs were no where to be found around here for several days. The taste was different, not bad, good even, just not the same thing. Not what I wanted.

Next, it was walking around the block, or two, or three, or . . . , when going out into the world was not advisable, and then not recommended, and then the new way of existing. Now I walk only when I am daring.

Then, it was digital conversations instead of face-to-face talking. Again, not the same. Not bad. Good at times, but something was missing when I did not move into that space and see it as a new thing unto itself. To do that, I need to acknowledge it as a new, different way of relating, but even then it does not replace the old well enough. It's kind of like Beyond Meat for carnivores. It's like shifting into a vegetarian, plant-based way of eating and trying not to leave all the carnivore food choices behind. It feels like pretending to me. Some things cannot be replaced. I simply need move beyond them, enjoying plants and produce and grains as food groups unto themselves. I need to find a way to enjoy this small space in this world of large spaces.

Humans are like that. Humans need to connect with others humans. A replica is not enough. A renamed something else does really work. Connecting digitally is kind of like Beyond Meat right now. It has not yet become a thing unto itself for me. And so, I find myself in this now well-stocked solitary confinement, reaching out across digital canyons, listening for human echoes.

We're going to be here for a while. It will take a while to develop a reliable antibody test that can be given on mass to populations to determine who is safe from this version of COVID19 and who is still at risk. It will take a while to get hospital management of at-risk, ICU patients under control and manageable in an on-going way. It will take a while for states, without the assistance of federal guidance, to self-align and work toward mutual self-interest. Perhaps longer than we think. And so here we are.

So, rather than live a life of substitutions, I'm working toward living in an alternate reality, one in which I'm gardening because I really do love to welcome seeds budding and their green bits reaching skyward. One in which I'm writing instead of thinking about or wanting to write. One in which I can no longer blame poor housekeeping on lack of time. Now I can face the real culprit: a lack of love for cleaning. But I'm finding a real fondness for doing laundry, that quiet folding and putting things away when they are clean. That, too, I can face head-on, some days, in some ways.

My well-being has been based on daily human contact . . . and so now, instead, I lean into revisiting old friends in books and music and paintings and occasional digital games with grand kids. I'm redefining what it means for me to be fully human in this quiet open space . . . with sufficient time on my hands. This sudden burst of space and time in my life also allows more self-reflection and hopefully shortening the distance between what I want to do and what I actually do today.