Sylvia's Journal

We are remaining socially distanced while also remaining virtually close. I am finding myself checking in with people who I had not communicated with for some time, and more frequently contacting those I am close to. Now we have our Friday night cocktail Zoom session with friends in town who we can’t visit anymore. Axel calls them Zoomtails, BYOB. And so, we sit in front of our screens, toasting the various adult beverages we have just poured ourselves, eating our own snacks (not without offering them to each other – everyone saying, “no thanks, I prefer my own snacks!”) We don’t talk that much about the virus or our government anymore. It’s mostly chitchat like before.

As of Sunday, we are initiating a weekly ‘Dinner with Friends,’ Sunday night meal – this of course only works if you are more or less in the same time zone, in other words, the time is right for dinner – so the invitees are friends nearby. We all cook the same thing, at least that’s the plan, and then we can imagine sitting around the table as we did during the olden days.

Such is the power of imagination. Not only do people come up with great ideas for staying in touch, for keeping kids occupied, for religious meetings, dance classes, therapy sessions, and toasting to good health with friends, etc. I also suspect that many new businesses will emerge from this; and old businesses will be transformed with the discovery of the possibilities that are emerging in our greatly enlarged virtual space.

I enjoy the imagination that goes into the production of the endless stream of funny videos, the brilliant cover pages of the New Yorker and other art work that circle around the world and that make me laugh so hard.

Headspace has several courses that focus on creating images in the mind to help people stay grounded in the here and now. Sometimes I find this very difficult.

I am currently reading a historical novel about the First World War. One of the protagonists, a newly enlisted member of the British army fighting in France, receives frequent letters from his new wife in England. She describes, in excruciating detail, the fancy imaginary meal she is cooking every day for her husband. He enjoys these imaginary meals, even shares them with his mates, all the while being stuck in the muddy and cold trenches on the front line. 

In the meantime, our imagination is tested when we are used to cook a meal just so but lacking one ingredient. No longer can we step into our car and drive to the grocery store. Getting groceries is a very complicated affair these days as we need to follow what are close to surgical theater procedures to unpack the groceries. So, we have to draw on our imagination to make up for the missing parts. Luckily, we don’t have substitute tulip bulbs for onions quite yet.