Training to be Human

[Pandemic - VIII]

We live in a flat world.
It’s global.
It's immediately accessible.
It's all online.

But we also live in neighborhoods. On city blocks and off country roads, where real dogs chase children and real cars lay rubber on the street and real people with real pain struggle.

When we connect to the way-out-there world we risk disconnecting with the right-in-front-of-us world, regardless if out there "feels" like right here.

"Ten ways to garden without weeds."
"How to get the love you want."
"Five reasons wood heat is better than natural gas."

Those are teachings online. They seem close, but are filmed in Cincinnati, New York, and British Columbia. Teaching and learning can happen online, but training is what we need right now. Training on how to be human.

You can't grow vegetables online.
You can't possibly experience the nuances of love through a screen.
You can't experience the warmth of fire through the TV.

Everything we learn about this pandemic happens through a device, but managing the realities of a pandemic are the needs of real people with real flesh and blood, depression and concrete needs.

The difference between teaching and training is more obvious than ever. Teaching can go online. All training cannot. (As a quick example, a nursing degree can never be fully online—while I can learn about suturing over video, I need clinical hours to actually handle a needle.)

To be embodied and fully feel, learn compassion, care for one another, heal wounds, sit with grief . . . to learn how to be human requires training that is more than a video or online lecture. It requires human contact. And practice.

So does growing veggies. And love. And wood heat.

What are you intentionally being trained to do?