6 Feet
Sometime after the plague in 1665 we figured out that, for our health and safety, the dead should be buried 6 feet under. We learned that 6 feet was the magical number that protected us from pathogens and germs...
We learnt the value of space as protection, as security, as a safeguard, along with grieving the dead came the need for safety.
Now we dig patiently, lifting stones and soil from the earth, creating space for those we love, burying them along with hopes and dreams of a shared future, 6 feet under.
About 350 years later, 6 feet tore through the boundaries of cemeteries and infiltrated the
mundane motions of daily life; A trip to the grocery store now requires a keen sense of distance estimation, walking through isles an exercise in spatial awareness...
As we give each other a wide berth, our eyes acknowledge the oddity of our actions, we offer uncertain smiles as tribute, refusing to acquiesce to 6 feet as it attempts to monopolize our consciousness.
The joy of solitude is interrupted by worry, pierced by anxiety, and injected with discomfort...
What lies beyond this season? What new normal awaits us on the other side?
Does the sound of a voice over the phone begin to feel like a hug anytime soon?
Does laughter and smiles shared on video calls begin to feel like a caress anytime soon?
Does the yearning for closeness dissipate? Does warmth fill our 6-foot bubble anytime soon?
Does intimacy evolve? Would the smiles we share as we walk 6 feet apart begin to trigger a warm and fuzzy feeling in our bellies anytime soon?
Do our faces remain a touch free zone? Do our hands learn to steer clear, demanding to be washed, understanding their role in health promotion and disease prevention?
Do we grow in this space, listening more attentively, connecting deeper with loved ones?
Do we come out of this better? Do we begin to truly understand that we’re only as strong as our weakest link?
Do we hug each other tighter, whispering sweet nothings into the ears of friends, relishing the feeling of being invited into the bubble of a fellow human, treasuring the arms that wrap around us without fear?
Do we kiss each other longer, proud of confidence with which we share bodily fluids, grateful to the institutions and fellow humans that guided us through the storms of a pandemic into the safe shores of normality?
