Masking a Future Distant
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| The Distance Among Us — |
Creating distance is as easy as stepping into your own
private dream-liner, fully stocked with aspirations on hold for a time not demanded
by regular life. The same is true of actually dreaming, in the sense that the
life we live over in that world is always on hold for later, sometime in the
future of ‘my’ perception of ‘me.’ Like a vacation that has been had, almost,
not stacking up, but nevertheless over, a reflection on the past that happened
before the last little bit determines the energies to be spent on the next
little bit, and into the future. Breathe … it’ll be okay. The masks we all wear
protect us from many things, and they isolate us from others. Covering the face
can cover the window to our inner-being, while protecting us from the bio-terrors
around and unseen. This also prepares us for a launch into the next generation
of us. Just like sleeping and dreaming, we store up our energies and breathe in
to our souls, just enough, to light up a future that is mostly paramount to
none.
Sitting here, eating matzah with matbukha, I’m trying to
remember how I felt during the year gone by. The last Pesakh I was in school to
learn a new profession, in order to add it all up in the end of a life well
spent. But, the end seems to have launched earlier than previously understood,
or known. And … now we are all wearing masks and gloves like in an Asian sci-fi,
or something. Was that racist to say? Is it even relevant today? It’s so hard
to know anymore what is real, what is important, or … what is ‘me,’ with a
capital ‘I.’ Do we continue down the path we began, is it even possible, or do
we change course and fly into the eye of the squall, and … um … WTF does that
even mean?! I mean, IT’S THE DAMN APOCALYPSE, right? (I usually refrain from
profanity, but, circumstances oblige…) The whole world seems to agree, that the
end is near, and that our pomposity of human dominance on the land is disowned,
disheveled, dishonored, and drowned.
Next week I begin to teach, once again. My 9th
grade classes have been returned to me, while my 10th languish with
others. I miss seeing my students, maybe 150 in total, and my life is on hold
like are their lives, and others. During kholamoed I built lessons for distant
learning, from the comfort of my studio, where I’ll teach my students English,
at least from grade nine. Using my tiny laptop I’ll try, with a window unto the
world that is separate, mostly a dream, to build a connection to each of my
students, and to tie bonds to our futures. From my studio I’ll try. With the
blessing of the Internet, I’ll wear my mask and not complain, from my tiny
imprint on our planet … I’ll try. The future is blooming, just on the other
side, I can see it, not in a dream, I can see it shine, waver and shine! I can
see it learning, I can see it grow, I see that it wants to, and with the help
of others, I’ll see it mature, bisrat Hashem, you can be sure.
The beginning
