We are Broadcast Towers

I think we don't even know how much pressure we are feeling just by living in this world right now. It's like being battered by waves on the sea, lifted and smashed down --out of control. We need to go deeper down below the level of the relentless waves to a constant, to a familiar place, an eternal presence. Then we can remember who we are, who we've always been--unafraid.

I feel hollowed out. Imagine if this is how things were to continue-- stripped of all that we've known-- no signposts, no familiars. What would we become? What would it feel like to be a person? 

Our minds slow down. We only have to have food and water and  shelter. We stay away from each other.

What if, in our loneliness, our senses become so heightened that they define what we are? 

We see every colour, every atom of the world around us. Light shines through every surface. We see the insides of all that was hidden before.

We hear our blood moving inside our veins, we hear our muscles as they prepare to move us across the room. We hear birds miles away on mountain tops. We hear trees talk with each other. We feel the vibration of their roots reaching under the earth. We smell the sap running in their trunks. We smell the sweetness of flowers, still in their seeds. 

We smell clouds about to drop rain, electricity from planets, animals going into heat, their pores fragrant—their breath sounds like thunder. Our skin becomes so sensitive we can feel every change in the air. Our hands, so clean, so germ-free, we can touch music before it is played. It feels like velvet or water or sandpaper or a kiss. All the things we miss are now in our own bodies. We are walking radios. We are ocean, rock, mud. We are everything we only touched on before in our old lives--before-- so long ago. 

We are losing memory of waiting at traffic lights, sitting in board rooms---long tables, full of people in suits, clearing their throats, blind dates, baptisms, school books, and bus stops. 

Now we are broadcast towers-- alive to the earth on its axis, vibrating to the murmur of other planets.

Written on April 8, 2020