Life in *Bits*

Must be the new(ish) ways to communicate; Instagram and Twitter and such things for the blogs I follow are no longer active, or only show signs of life every month or so.

Seems we think in bits now.  We consume our news in bits, we talk in bits, we message in bits, we show pictures (at least they're worth a 1000 words) of ourselves.  These selfie bits others taste on this Moving Digital Feast where no one gets a full meal. 

Kind of sad really.

Suspect that as time goes on we will lose the capacity to think anything through.  If we can't grasp it in 140 characters or less we'll just toss it in the too hard basket and move on.  I notice that in myself.  I'll read some editorial on Huff Post, get half or 3/4 of the way through, find my attention wandering to the picture on the side bar of the cobra and python battle and click on that. 

Kind of sad really.

Even books.  I don't read nearly as much as I used to.  I read in bits.  Always getting up to check the computer, or just getting up to do something else.  Years ago I'd stake out a claim on one end of the couch and read for hours.   Or, with a really good book, stay up all night.  Now I grab 10 minutes there, half an hour there.

Kind of sad really.

But what isn't sad is - Richard has joined the gym!  He'd stopped doing yoga, hadn't done any physio prescribed exercises for months and was just curling further and further into himself.  This is a hard thing to see for he had such terrific posture.  Damn Parkinsons!  Anyway, besides the afternoon walk (or walk/shuffle) and any chores he undertook, he wasn't doing anything.  And I had a hissy fit.  Had to stop nagging him as it was making us both miserable and wasn't really doing any good.  So hard to see him scrunched over and not say anything but had to bite my tongue.  I will copy his posture sometimes to show how extremely bad it is; a sort of visual nag, but I don't say anything.  Never nagged about doing yoga, just hoped he would, that he would be motivated to want to fight the symptoms of parky but he didn't.

Hence the hissy fit.  Said not to be so damn selfish and to think of me and the kind of companion I was going to have in the future because he wasn't doing anything today, that he wasn't a self-starter and how did he ever run a successful drug squad without being a self-starter. etc etc.  Then I told him of Wilma's gym buddy, a woman with parkinsons who has experienced a major turnaround because of working out.

So he joined.  Went yesterday and today he is really really sore.

Not sad really.  Not at all.