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Communication with long pauses
Jan. 23rd, 2007 11:08 amYesterday I watched a television program in which the makers try to convey the history of a Carthusian convent somewhere in the country. The life of the Carthusian monk is one of sitting in a cell, praying and working, taking a walk in a tiny walled garden, next to the cell, and then it's back to the cell again, for more work and prayer. Only once a week the monks gathered to talk about the business of living in the convent and the rules and regulations. The rest was silence. And work and prayer.
Suddenly the incarceration of one's own choice sounds appealing. Having to deal with people only once a week, is something I'd enjoy right now: simple business-like communication with fixed intervals. Gone are all the forced smiles when someone dutifuly compliments you with your new hair, but you can hear they don't like it. Gone are the silly remarks because you aren't wearing your glasses. Gone is all the small talk, because why would one use his or her breath on anything so shallow, when it can be used to praise god.
Gone too, will be me staring at my mobile, wondering if I should send a text or make a phone call, because last time my correspondent didn't sound so welcome. Staring at the numbers on my phone, wondering if I should hit the dial-button or not, I wish I could go back to my cell with the reading and the working, letting the world pass me by. It sounds so easy.
But then I think I'd love to have a computer in my cell, with a decent wireless connection, so I can surf the internet in my own tiny little garden when it's warm outside. I hit dial.
Suddenly the incarceration of one's own choice sounds appealing. Having to deal with people only once a week, is something I'd enjoy right now: simple business-like communication with fixed intervals. Gone are all the forced smiles when someone dutifuly compliments you with your new hair, but you can hear they don't like it. Gone are the silly remarks because you aren't wearing your glasses. Gone is all the small talk, because why would one use his or her breath on anything so shallow, when it can be used to praise god.
Gone too, will be me staring at my mobile, wondering if I should send a text or make a phone call, because last time my correspondent didn't sound so welcome. Staring at the numbers on my phone, wondering if I should hit the dial-button or not, I wish I could go back to my cell with the reading and the working, letting the world pass me by. It sounds so easy.
But then I think I'd love to have a computer in my cell, with a decent wireless connection, so I can surf the internet in my own tiny little garden when it's warm outside. I hit dial.
