The Open Door

It’s been 8133 minutes, 135.55 hours, and 5.648 days since I’ve directly seen sunlight. I sit here on my laptop getting my dopamine fix for the day, absorbing blue light, and I’ll eventually get a sore butt despite this couch being so darn comfy. Through the windows I see a countryside landscape — a field of maize, cows, fences… There are mysterious paths leading through the trees to follow. There’s an array of fruits and vegetables just waiting to be picked and prepared. There’s a beach nearby to run or bike to.

I remember the time when we were little, and my brother, sister and I found an injured bird. We took it home, and for a few weeks kept it in a bird aviary in the garden. When the bird had healed and it was time to let it go, we left the aviary door wide open. But the bird didn’t fly away. 100 minutes later: still sitting there. 200 minutes later: still sitting there. It took until the end of the day to leave; this bird had become complacent with living in its limiting box and forgotten how it felt to fly.

Lockdown has resized my freedom, limiting me mostly to my home. It has also resized my freedom in the sense that I always feel content when I’m alone. Technology has resized my freedom, attaching me to my phone. I think I’ve forgotten how it feels to live — to travel, laugh with friends, go to restaurants, meet new people, to have fun — real fun! These are the things that bring bursts of colour and diversity to our lives; they allow us to create meaningful memories, to view life from different angles, and experience the full spectrum of emotions life has to offer.

If I could, I surely would say yes to the world of opportunities usually enveloping us — living a monochrome life is not my style. Except, I look at the door leading out into the wonderful countryside — it’s been wide open all this time. Why am I still yet to step outside?