Sylvia's Journal

We have a new vocabulary now. During the day we ask ourselves whether we are zoomed in, or up, or out. When we facetime with our daughter, after her work day is over, we see her glazed over eyes and conclude that she is zoomed-out. There were zoom-bombings before the Zoom company shored up its security. There are Zoom(cock)tails and Zoom weddings and Zoom Quaker meetings for worship, with everyone on mute, unless a message from the universe requires an unmute.

There is the concept of social distancing, words rarely used together outside sociology departments, surely with a different meaning now. It’s not social but physical that causes us so much grief. With all the things we are not able to do, there is now the joy about the things we can do (internet stability permitting): being socially close to people that are not nearby. I feel socially quite close to people, knowing we could not possibly infect each other. I am participating in workshops and learning webinars with Indians, South Africans, European. Our Zoom 40th anniversary wedding was attended by people from two continents, 4 countries, and several states in the US.

Last night we watched a documentary about Mr. Rogers, a TV personality Americans would know about. Maybe he was known outside the US. I learned about him via our kids. It was Mr. Rogers who reminded kids that there were always more helpers than bad people. Look for the helpers he would recommend parents to tell their kids when bad things happened. And I see, around the world, that we are all heeding his words. The people who make us angry are always in the minority. It’s good to remember that.