The noise on the other side of social media has been the backyard local life noise we all knew as kids. We grew insulated in our high rise functional dwellings and urbanity drowned out kids playing in the streets, birdsong and street vendors. For the first few years social media made us say hello again to the neighbours: a peek over the fence for a chat without having to put the kettle on. This year the deafening racket has driven many very close to over the edge. We are in way deeper than ever and a quick chat with the Samaratins is not going to cut in this festive season. The political Quatar theatrescape is as brash as it gets.
Just returning to this word-oasis and my physical and nervous system already are finding renovation and renewal.
It has been a year to think and process which never comes with a guarantee of a conclusive outcome.
I was in the kitchen with The Good Indian husband and I thanked him for pushing me to be smarter.
So over here it is a chance to tune in to a sweeter, more poignant place on the map.