Yearning for Simple

A seemingly insignificant event occured today that got me thinking. I was contemplating how to fill up my hot pot with filtered water from the fridge vs. plain water from the faucet. It's a pain to put water in, as the lid doesn't open widely enough to fit under the dispenser in the fridge door. I usually just put it under the tap in the sink. Convenience vs. taking time to put in better quality water. As I contemplated how I wanted to solve this dilemma, I spied my gorgeous, green Majolica flower pitcher. Shopping in an antique store with some old friends, I came around the corner after searching all over to see if there was a treasure to be found. In the glass case at about eye level stood this vision of luscious fecundity. Glowing in its glossy cabbage-green carved surface were gobs of flowers, vines, and leaves, all intertwined. It spoke to me.

I took the pitcher from its high perch in my kitchen. We live where there are earthquakes, so it's asking for trouble to keep it up there, but so far, so good. May we never get one that knocks it out of its aerie. [I send prayers to the victims in Haiti, may the world help them to get back on their feet, and to rebuild a better place to live.] As I gathered water in the vessel, the light went off in my head. A-ha! Here I stand, at this point in history, performing the rather simple task of getting some water to drink. It wasn't always that simple. In some places in the world, it still isn't. Technology has made it so I don't have to go to the well to gather the water I need.

Depending on when humans have existed on this planet, we've had to go from depending upon Mother Nature and the weather for our water and food and shelter, to being able to drive down the street a couple of miles to buy groceries, and stand with a pitcher in one's kitchen to get water. To most of us in the western world, that's the extent of our procuration of food, water, and shelter. The time we have saved on gathering our basic needs allows us to do more with our lives, since we have more time for these pursuits. What do we do with this time that's not spent on ensuring our survival? We make things. Technologically, we have evolved almost faster than we can keep up with. We have made infinite discoveries, invented to make our lives easier, healthier, longer, stronger, and more effortless.

There is a price to be paid, however. If we are so good at finding ways to satisfy our basic needs, why doesn't everyone on the face of the earth have access to these same devices? Why are there people starving in our own cities and countries? If technology has made the growing and purchasing of food, water, and shelter readily available, why are there people who go unfed, thirsty and homeless? Technology has also given us the ability to communicate with nearly everyone on the entire Earth. This grid is a giant web encircling the Earth, connecting anyone who has the means with everyone else. So much information! Supposedly we can know all there is to know, if we take the time to read it all.

Yet, with all this connectivity to each other, something vital is missing. When we once stood at the well collecting our water, we observed our surroundings and each other, and communicated face-to-face with all we encountered. There was a sense of connection that involved more compassion and direct contact than I believe exists in today's world. Perhaps, that is why social networking sites are so important to the masses. Even as technology makes our lives easier, and can often complement our lives, there's a sense that something may be missing. We all miss connecting to one another by the well, sharing what's going on in our lives with those souls who are accompanying us on this journey of life. At this point in history, we can "know" people we may never meet in person, ever. We can have more "friends" online than we have in our day to day lives. I know that's true of myself. In the many ways I am connected to online communities, I have more contacts over the airwaves using the written word instead of visiting with people when I can hear their voices, or better yet, seeing them in front of me.

As thankful as I am for the ability and means to connect with far more people than I will ever physically meet in my lifetime, I also yearn for a simpler time. For time to connect more directly with those around me. For a time when all people will have the means to gather their basic needs within stable, supportive environments, unplagued by wars and terror. For a time when we can use our incredible technological innovations to reach each and every one of us in more direct, compassionate ways.

And now, if you'll excuse me, or better yet - join me - with a cup of tea?