I wonder what happens when I remove myself from the structures that make up my life. Computers, television screens, even news outlets, all designed to give the illusion of connection. In truth, we’re all disconnected.
When examining objects, it’s peculiar that we’ve decided to give them such importance in our lives. Mobile phones can’t love you, televisions can’t make you feel safe, yet we wrap ourselves in their illusory glow; we’re fools for doing that.
Somewhere along the way, I fear that I’ve become disconnected from nature. I often wonder if it misses me as much as I miss it. I want to connect to what grows organically around us, but my heart has grown cold from years of living beneath the ground. I’m human, but I fear we’re a greedy and untrustworthy species. We’ve failed in our obligation to nature and as humans, we’re the most unnatural species in existence.
My simplest pleasure comes from making a cup of green tea. The chime of the kettle as it finally boils, the drip as the water enters the cup and the click as the metal spoon hits the rim, engages all of my senses. I long to stay in this tranquillity but know it will soon be taken. So, I sit and wait as the timer counts me back into existence.
I long to feel as a magpie does, when it catches a worm between its beak. I imagine it’s satisfied with the knowledge that it won’t go hungry. Its only concern is survival and it can’t be corrupted by modern influence.
In my lowest moments, I wonder if trees could speak, what would they say? Would they laugh with one another or cry out in agony as we cut them down? A friend told me, plants can feel pain, and if I ever get the opportunity, I would like to ask what they do to alleviate themselves from it.
Most innately, I wonder how my reality would be if I picked each item I interact with. I’d put my phone on silent, turn off my laptop and examine the thoughts that permeate my mind. If we all did this, would reality become more of a connective experience? I think so. But, most of us aren’t brave enough to try.