Has Time Been Sent to Spam? By Miss Guided Light
Last week, I emailed two women with oodles of web presence. Recognizing their time is really valuable, I made sure my emails were short and to the point and as gracious as possible.
I put a lot of time into it, inviting each of them to take a look at my latest blog. Their web postings sure made it seem like we had a lot in common. I didn’t ask them for anything. I didn’t even ask to meet or take up lots of their time. What did I ask from them? Dialogue. What did I get? Ignored.
It wasn’t the first time I’ve been dismissed with what I imagine was a rush to clean out an inbox from yet another gimmick, cause, or 24 hour sale. To gain a sense of control, we savvy websters quickly press delete. It’s a matter of survival. Disregard is in vogue. The more emails we receive, the less we read and the more indignant, justified and hip we feel, cursing those dastardly emails that try to steal away our most precious commodity: time.
It makes me wonder. Why doesn’t anyone have time anymore? Where did time go? Did it retire a few years back and no one noticed? Did one day it suddenly quit, yelling I’m mad as hell and I can’t take it anymore? Or has time simply been sent to spam?
One of my favorite ladies in the whole wide world was a woman I met when I worked at the hospital. One day, I sat down and wrote her a letter. Not an email, a letter. Handwritten. I asked her how she was. I told her I was writing for no reason. I just wanted to tell her I was thinking of her. I had nothing new to tell her about my life. I simply wanted to sit with a pen and paper and dawdle with her for a while over a cup of tea, like we used to. This lovely lady didn’t write me back. Not because she didn’t make time for me, but because she couldn’t. She died a while back.
Still, I make time for her. Still, even if it’s only in the fragrant memories of her floating above my teacup, she makes time for me. And I know what she’d say. This calm old woman would tell me time didn’t go anywhere. We just don’t make it anymore, kinda like everything else that has gone out of style, like tying our shoes or sending a note card through the mail just to tell someone you’re thinking of them.
We don’t send cards anymore. Not even birthday ones. We look into a flashing screen, tap discordantly on a keyboard, and post Happy Birthday into a little white computer corner when a prompt appears. I’ve heard some folks count how many little white computer corner birthday wishes they received, and it makes me wonder.
Did they get any real cards? Did they come home at the end of the day and find a card in the mail with handpicked wishes inside, the kind of card they might ever so carefully place on the top of their desk to last for days, months even; the kind of card that would move them to make time to chat with an old friend?
It’s easy to disregard an email like my once prospective friends did. With one finger click, we can delete and diminish its intent and send it to the spam folder in our brain, never realizing the potential we may be discarding. But if we want to get rid of a card or letter, we must throw it in the trash; a much more difficult act. We have to take off the lid, face the garbage pail head on and actually witness our friend’s thoughtfulness on top of old coffee grinds or day old circulars. Such thoughtlessness makes me shudder, and wonder. Is that what we did with time?
The first time I saw the Sign of the Times I was late for work. Back then, I was working as a nurse at Humpty Hospital, and on that particular day, I stopped at the Coffee Chop on my way to work. My friend Vicki Pedia and I were kookling for a knock off pair of Mzzz Pink’s spiral shoes. You see, the day before, we saw her get off her neon pink chopper wearing these really cool shoes and just about gasped! When I worked at Humpty, I had to wear these really ugly and expensive shoes. It was unbearable to wear them day after day! Vicki and I lost track of the time, and when I realized I was late, I rushed out of the Coffee Chop, onto the boardwalk and bumped into the sign, spilling my coffee! As I picked up my things, I read the sign. It read Happiness over there, and Someday this way.
But to my surprise, the next day it was still there! And the next, and the next! So then I began to wonder, what’s going on here? Why is the sign still here? Happiness over there? Where? Happiness wasn’t at Humpty Hospital, that’s for sure, I thought. The day I bumped into the sign was a tough one, more than the typical cuts and bruises at the hospital. That day I saw so many wounded folk. Having thought about the sign, I began studying the crowd of sick people in the waiting room, and I saw something I never really saw before. It was like all of them were on a highway to someday. And working at Humpty Hospital, I saw lots of people die on their way to someday. At that moment, I noticed more than their physical and emotional wounds. I saw that all these people were so muted and 2D it was like they were barely breathing, as if they had no spirit or life in them at all! That's when I had a really scary thought.
What about me? How was I any different? Had I become muted too? Would I ever make it to someday?
That moment was the beginning of the end of my life at Humpty hospital, the day I realized that I had been being so busy on the ladder, I hadn’t seen the sign was about me! That night, back at the Coffee Chop, I shared my story with Vicki. "I'm tired of the cynicism all around Splash City. I'm tired of hearing Noah Tall and Ben T. Donethat scoff at possibility. They think being cynical makes them smart. All it does is make them bullies. Mzzz Pink wears her heart on her sleeve and she sure isn't bullied. She's vibrant, and so are most of her friends. I want to be more like her." I wasn't sure Vicki really understood so I just ordered a root beer float while she kookled ‘someday'. Then I took a sip of my float. Yuck! It was horrible! The root beer was flat! And that’s when it occurred to me. Being muted and 2D is just like flat soda; it’s missing its bubbly! All that cynicism had been making me lose my bubbly too! Mzzz. Pink’s happiness bubbles out and all around her so much it’s contagious! For her, happiness is not over there. It’s with her all the time. She’s living her someday!
And so now, I start every day with that thought, and not only do I feel bubbly, I'm proud of it! In my laughter yoga business Mimosa Yoga, I want to help people become bubbly! I want to help them breathe, laugh, and find their happiness now, instead of over there. At Mimosa Yoga, we will drink champagne and laugh! It's so fun! But laughter is serious business you know. Seriously, laughter is the first step to becoming vibrant and 3D!