metonymy4u

Riding the subway this morning I observed a young man sitting in a seat with his backpack on the seat next to him. Something about the stare of cold command, and frown, and studiously worn and wrinkled pants informed us that no neighbor would he countenance. Even when an elderly woman got on the train, there was no movement, from him to offer, nor anyone else to request, the unused seat. We were all frozen–myself included–by some unspoken fear of approach. Someone else got up for her and she sat down.

I thought to myself, “We are all certainly dead inside.”

In this context, it seems to me that the metaphor of the Zombie is very apt. Many of us who people the streets are indeed the walking dead. By that I mean we lack the capacity to understand the experience of one, an-other. And how does the media handle this situation? What stories do we tell? On the (so-called) news, in movies, advertisements, books, in the music and videos of our entertainment addicted world? Mostly just ways to dispose of the bodies. Or recycle them into food-stuffs. Go green. Go soylent green! Why is it that we so rarely tell another story?

The story of people waking up?

Later, walking through the park, I saw a dog trying to teach a human how to throw a ball properly. Two things stood out: 1) how incredibly focused the dog was on his teaching and 2) how patient and kind he was. He did not bark, or growl, or bite, or snarl. He focused on nothing else but his student, his task. How much more effective could our lessons be if we acted more like our canine friends? It seems to me they are trying to teach us something. If only we could sit down for a moment and listen.