July 29, 2021: Nimno chaap (low pressure)

July 29, 2021: Nimno chaap (low pressure). I have not seen rain like this since about 1975. It has rained nearly continuously. It comes in bands, sometimes the visibility is so low that one almost needs to pull over and wait. Everything is wet. Yet, within my real bubble, where I operate, the streets have not been flooded. Even if it becomes tricky to drive because of visibility, the roads are clear. Much is happening as the time draws close for a change in the real space, at least for some time, and many things to be done. In the hybrid life, choices have to be made that are different from the old days. No one I work with actually talks about me being away. It is only whether it is screen time or face time. Had a very interesting exchange with colleagues who asked, “Where are you?” I was able to say confidently, “On the screen.” That is all. For the first time in my life, over the last several months I had a sense of freedom from place. As long as I was available on the screen or in the room things were OK. I am about to lose that freedom and that terrifies me. Now, I might be mandated to be in a place. I may not be able to seamlessly move between screen and room. New expectations might be brought in where the answer to the question “Where are you?” will no longer be “Here I am” but will have to be footnoted with a latitude and longitude and not just a hyperlink. Yet, I am relatively confident that I have served those who needed me. Remotely if needed. It will be a readjustment to return to a locus in space that will be expected of me. Shackled. A prisoner of ways that was. What could have been is being systematically denied. I am fortunate to be in a profession where the locus has now been demonstrated to be unimportant. Have a meeting in Cushing in a few weeks. The great land of Oklahoma. The others agreed that I just need to be at the meeting. I do not have to be there. Resources saved. Going places is a passion for many but the barrier was presence. In the old days one had to plan ones movement based on physical presence. For the last several months there was freedom. All of that is coming to an end. An arbitrary demand, which seemed natural once but not anymore, will be reinstated. I will miss it. But I think I utilized it well. A tribute to the ones who perished but showed us another way. If we had adopted these ways before the pandemic maybe fewer would have died. When the next pandemic comes we will probably lose many again because we refused to learn. Grab the opportunities where available. We failed in that. There are many for whom place is unimportant, one can add to the economy, one of the key arguments for returning to the old ways, without needing a place. Just the screen. Rethink. Reimagine. We refused to do that. Luddites of the new age. Perhaps this is a vent, the last writings of the dying bug sprayed with the bug spray. Eventually the bug dies. I caught that bug but have been sprayed down. The last flings of the arm will stop. Statis. In place. Queen said, “I want to break free.” And the rain continues.