There is an interdependance we allow our various gadgets. Writing this on a tiny keybord frustrates me, but what has frustrated us both even more is the smartphone obsessed diners we've watched recently. Increasingly couples sit inches apart, totally disengaged, as one stares at a small screen. The art of conversation is still so key to society and watching people eat between blue lit glances seems quite heartbreaking to the relationships they could be engaged in. Yet on one level I resonate with their easy choice, for I too can choose to live in an English bubble of a world, an online world, one I can switch off when it frustrates me or engage to the detriment of the real conversations surrounding us. Upon the screen we inhabit a world we understand, a pridictable place where we can become the person we wish to be.
However inconvienient or inconsequential those wider conversations matter. This past week I've got to know my neighbour so much better than before, I've had time to listen, time to ponder, time to dive into scripture and appreciate silence. Finding a balance can be hard when all you want to do is curl up with a cadbury's chocolate bar and watch cbbc, but taking the plunge can be equally rewarding. When we fully disengage, we can fully engage with something else.
The addict wants her computer back, or at least a replacement. The reasons range from the selfish to the genuine need for a good chunk of my work. While I count the days past I'll watch the residents of Igmanska from the chair in the bedroom, see their lives played out upon the panes of my real world screen. As I better get to know their ways and struggles, as their faces become familiar and slowly our prayers intertwine.