18: Social Undistancing
This is The Eureka Project, a letter from me, James Mitchell, about... how to get through it.
ALL QUIET IN THE HUMAN PETRI DISH
Alan Moore, V for Vendetta
Good afternoon, evening, morning. As I write this, everything around me is still as a held breath.
When the old stories are swept away, a lot of commentators and narrators rush in to fill the void. Usually with whatever will make you take notice, and it's their right to do so. So before I say anything, I want to say: remember that it is your right to decide what you make of what's going on. It always was, and it is now.
With that said, here's how I see this moment - this one, this Saturday evening, the few days around it. What's happening now might not be just a prelude. The Peak is coming; the global project is to see how flat we can make it, but it will come.
But in another way, an emotional way, we might be sitting inside the worst of it, right now. Consider this: perhaps, we'll never be as shocked and confused as we are this week. The next time things get worse, we'll already have had the 'things getting worse' experience. Right now, we're living through the trapeze-heartbeat between change, and adaptation.
And we always adapt - or we wouldn't be here. Right now I fear for the vulnerable people, and I fear for the people we need most to get us through this. I also fear for myself - I'm out of work. But behind this, I am also a little... excited? Is that okay to say? I'm excited to see what we'll have adapted into on the other side, as individuals and as a society. How much kinder we might become, how much more aware of suffering, and of our responsibility to others, and of the change we can make in the world.
But how to get through now? I've been thinking about two things: how to connect to others, and how to stay in my physical body and not just in my head. Where do these two things meet?
In postcards.
I HOPE THIS LETTER FINDS YOU WELL
I have sent these mushrooms,
To a good friend of mine who went to see Hilary Mantel with me, perhaps the last time I'll share space with more than 100 people this year.
This messiah on a taxi,
To a friend who takes a lot of photos, and would have snapped this if he'd seen it.
These birds,
To my grandparents, who I haven't seen in what suddenly seems like too long, too long.
I got the idea on a stag weekend in Barcelona. The groom's brother-in-law-to-be stopped off at the first touristy stand he could and grabbed a bunch of postcards and stamps. Then during one of those comfy lulls you get in a civilised stag, he started to write them: to his Mum, to his sister, to some of his friends.
"I do it because it's just nice to reflect," he said. "And they're nice to get, so they're nice to send. Do you want one?"
He gave me a Sagrada Familia, and I was off.
I have more postcards and more stamps and more people to reach out to. But if you'd like one, DM me @jamescmitchell.
GATHER ROUND THE FIRE
Besides that, my exhortation to you is: find a way of seeing another human face, 'live', not as content. My choir has taken its sessions online. I thought latency problems were just for Counterstrike, but singing over Zoom is a beautiful, beautiful mess.
And then there's a pal of mine, Thom. He keeps a newsletter called 100%, which is about finding all the wonderfulness of life (at least, that's what I feel it's about). The archive is a thoughtful, warm read.
And this Sunday at 8PM GMT, he's doing a reading, live, online. Of what? I don't know, but with his lovely podcast baritone, it's bound to make you feel good. Perhaps you'd like to come listen?
I really like the idea. And I have a story to share too, which I'll do next Sunday.
Thank you for reading. Until next time, let us all keep well.
❧ James