Blinking Indicates Help Is On The Way

I saw this sign in an elevator yesterday.

Does it mean that if I blink help will come?  Does it mean that if you’re blinking, help is coming my way? Or your way?  I’m not sure.
I do need help, I know that much.

I saw the sign while returning a modem, having upgraded my tech life hugely over the last week.  I now have cable internet (it’s faster), new somethings in my computer that have maximized its RAM (so it’s faster), and an iPhone (it’s faster than waiting till I get home to answer emails, if my fingers are pointy enough).
I’m so upgraded, I don’t know what to do with myself anymore.

This is all, they keep telling me, in the interest of fascilitating the conversations I want to be a part of. Conversations about why we’re here, how to be well, and what we want to do with this “one wild and precious life”.  (That’s Mary Oliver, the poet.)

Still.  What I know I love is conversing one on one with people.  I also love one on hundreds, ie speaking publicly.  With my mouth, in both cases.

What I don’t know, yet, is this conversation that takes place with my fingers and the ether.  I feel as though I’m mumbling, hey, what do you love?, over and over, out a window, and just waiting.

This morning I tripped over a new Twitter page that was filled with responses to my tweets.  Had no idea people were speaking back.
I’m starting to get the hang of Facebook, and blogging, but most of the time I’m still blog-boggled.

When I tried to text my daughter this morning, I heard George’s raspy voice saying hello.  George is the tech guy who is teaching me how to use all of this equipment.  I guess his number is next to my daughter’s.  And I guess I was in the wrong place altogether – phone calls, not texts.  I’d called him by mistake at 8:15 am.

So I need help.
What I’d love is to accept that I’m deaf and dumb in this new environment, and that I’ll keep trying until I’ve developed the new techno senses of speech and hearing.

I’d love us all to keep trying, in hopes of finding huge conversations that we love.  Talk about finding your family.

Until that happens, I’ll just keep blinking.
If you see me on the street and you want to see a grown woman cry, blink back.

I’ll throw my arms around you.  Really, I will.

Thanks for the conversation,

kristin  

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