In the wake of this pandemic, we reached out to our next-door neighbors to exchange contact numbers to look after each other's back. We have been neighbors by SIGHT for 4 long years. Our communication did not go beyond numerous eye contacts and smiles whenever we met each other while driving out of our garage. So near and yet so far. Separated by walls and distanced by silence.
Once a upon a time, we used to share luxury items such as a phone line, a television, a refrigerator. There wasn't my space, your space. Our space was communal. We were pockets of communes. We waited eagerly for the next episode of sitcom or soap opera. We laughed and cried together. We were socially compassionate.
We are in the state of asphyxia. The most potent carrier of any disease is the air that we need to be alive. A misstep by any self-serving individuals will put this existential space at the verge of human fatalities. We are all canaries in the coalmine. We must consciously relearn the language of the universe. We need to rise to the level of sharing and caring. Our young neighbor knocked on our door to check if he could mow our lawn since he was already on the job. This was momentous. This was graciousness.