Virtually Gina

As I look towards a hypothetical future in which the criminals currently in office face charges, I try to find moments of calm. I cuddle my pets and tend to my garden and engage in conversation with the ones around me. I take in art or nature, and stretch/move/rest my body as time and space permits.

I tend to my inner garden as well, that mysterious terrain of the mind. The news headlines, the social media posts all intend to engage, and they do their job well. I not only engage but sometimes engorge at the expense of my inner sanctum. Time to remedy that, right now, by putting pen to page and capturing these fleeting thoughts that seek to cleanse my inner palate and help me to live life more fully, here. Not exclusively in the virtual realm, where AI allegedly just created new viruses previously unknown to humankind (or so they say). Not just on the interface of the smartphone, or computer, both of which have provided moments of connection but also evoked experiences of isolation, confusion, rage or even fury. Here, in this vast inner sanctum, is where the answer may lie.

Can I stay with this moment long enough to receive? So often the answer eludes, because I’ve already abandoned it, turning my sights to the blue screens around me like a flower turns its head to the sunlight, only the blue screens sap my strength. And even in the nourishing light of the sun, a flower head eventually withers and fades, its colorful petals sapped of hydration as they fall to the ground below.

What is the meaning of it all? The eternal question, so hotly debated throughout the centuries, and we still don’t know. Maybe those who have known have tried to tell us, but the answer is like an insect quick to perceive imminent capture, scuttling to a dark crevice just out of reach.

Maybe the answer can’t be conveyed verbally; it has to be experienced firsthand. The accounts of others, while inspiring, only cheapen the experience. Seven decades ago, Allen Ginsberg tried to tell us in his Howl that he “saw the best minds of [his] generation destroyed by madness.” Today, the best minds of our generation are still mad, and interconnected by so much more than meets the eye. But do they feel tethered by the ever-scrolling swipe of a fingertip?