Two weeks ago if I asked what’s new with you, you would say, “I’ve been so busy.”

Redundancy for our times:

“Sorry I haven’t called. I’ve been covered up.”

“You were on my list to call today!” ( Damn that’s cold. I’m a spot on the list to be remembered.)

I too say, I’ve been thinking about you which I do instead of checking in. Maybe like me, you have nothing to say of importance, nothing is new, we would only complain or bore someone. So we just think of them.

We’ve taken each other for granted. Worried over minutiae, Scrambled to organize time distracted by social media in between a bevy of offerings to do everything imaginable at all times. So much freedom, so much space, so much opportunity it’s impossible to find clear and present boundaries for humanness.

Though I’ve prayed for the world to stay still long enough to get my breath all I do now is hold mine hoping no one I love loses theirs. The boundaries feel less like security than a noose.

I am a happy recluse in the best of times. The best means I chose it. The best means I am self centered because all around me is secure with me being that way. I am making my way to a best of times mentality. A slow slog.

Captivity is easier now than the intro to that. I wonder if that’s how the accused feel waiting for a trial that will surely result in incarceration. Scrambling like impaired ants to consider an uncertain future except the loss of choice and resources.

Some of us do not get bailed out. Do not get unemployment or payroll without production. We are the invisible. Marginalized. That reality will leave scars.

We thought we were more worthy than that.

Not geared for this is no excuse. We shift gears now. We are shifting. The shape of our lives is changing with our without our direction. It will never seem the same. We now know our fragility.

The shape of our minds is on us. It may be the only true choice we have.

The ring of freedom is the sound of  breath quieting under our own direction.