Echo Chamber

It's been a snowy winter here in the northeast. The past few winters have been quite mild, so I'm out of practice with shoveling, salting and the like. I like the snow, but more than a few storms in a given winter really irritates me. Sometimes I'm even enraged. I'm built around "to-do" lists, and being thwarted from accomplishing my daily tasks frustrates me in a way that sends my mind to a dark, tormented place. This year, I feel differently. The sea change in how we work, shop, go to school has made reclusive living de rigueur. I don't need to catch the commuting train, or worry about collecting kids at school, or think about losing out on exercise, or what to do if there isn't enough food in the house. I live in my own lazy bubble where snow, sleet, hail, torrents of locusts and frogs will not change my Groundhog Day solitude.

My reclusive bubble living does consist of some very difficult and stressful routines; laundry, online ordering, laundry, Instagram, Twitter, laundry, occasionally reading a paragraph in a long novel. But my favorite past time continues to be rattling around in my head, my own echo chamber, and feeding my unhealthy outrage at our current political divisiveness. Daily, hourly to be honest, I am shocked and angry at the anger and shock of those living outside my echo chamber. I stoke this anger by spending hours trolling twitter and write responses to asinine comments that are never sent. I go straight to the comment section on opinion pieces by the WSJ Editorial Board. I don't want to spend time on the article's content, just on other peoples stupid reactions. Even I know this isn't healthy. We are as connected a world as ever there was, and so our differences have no room to breathe. Remember when we could sit quietly and smile at someone's inane beliefs, get up, leave, and mock them all the way home? On another day, we might, if sitting long enough, actually listen to them, their opposing view, and even, dare I say, hear it, think on it, and wonder in our head if there wasn't some merit to it. Not any more. We have all sought shelter, protected from the snow and the virus in our own little echo chamber, "hellooo, helloooo, hellooo" Oh look it's me! If intruders enter my own echo chamber, I am done for. Hatred, spewing derisions at the enemy, and seriously unhealthily thinking meet them at the gate. Ironically, this assault on my echo chamber incenses me as I question why they all can't get the hell out of their own echo chambers. Huh? Yes, it's true. We are all hypocrites to some degree, and we like people who think like us. I'm not ready to give up on my anger and righteousness. But I sure as hell would like you to. Moreover, I would like you to get a brain. Because surely, if you had a brain, you would see it my way.

Winter has come.