2010
Life Unplugged
by Leanne GrechYou are born ignorant, immobile and speechless. Twenty years later…
“We will be landing in fifteen minutes,” says the voice from the pilot cabin. You find yourself smiling, thinking about what’s next. And then it happens. The moment you have not been waiting for. You are transported back to that class, to that cosy back-row seat. To that aerodynamics book that you have barely opened. You desperately wish your brain would stop conjuring words such as thrust, lift, drag and gravity. In the meantime, the airplane landed.
At the airport, you come across many different people. Two of them catch your attention. You cannot help but wonder about that adorable kewpie growing inside the pregnant woman sitting by herself. And just like that, it happens again. Two months ago during midwifery class. Some believe Einstein spent an extra month in his mother’s womb and this gave his brain more time to develop. Suddenly it hits you that you were prematurely born.
The sexy guitar player is taking the acoustic guitar out of the hard case now. Your eyes fall onto the beauty for a second. You are ashamed of yourself for even thinking about this. The string is vibrating. And you have been taught that guitar strings vibrate most prominently at their fundamental frequency. Baffled, you catch a taxi with that tune still stuck in your head.
Looking outside inside the taxi, your eyes see cathedrals, museums, tall office buildings. But your brain, it sees domes, flying buttresses, ribbed vaults. You also notice the bare-chested man jogging. In your head, that translates to biceps brachii and pectoralis major, all the while thinking that there must be something seriously wrong with you.
And speaking of wrong, you then develop a crush on the hotel bartender. At first you think it’s love at first whatever but deep down you know biology says otherwise. You know that it’s only the result of a bunch of hormones doing their job like they’re supposed to. But you still go for it because it’s summer and you just want to have fun.
The sun is setting over the horizon now and you’re at the beach, amazed. A reflection on the sea causes your mind to shift to chemistry mode. You are reminded of the water strider, the insect which relies on surface tension to walk on top of water. You quickly dismiss the reminder so you could peacefully enjoy the last rays of sunshine for the day.
In bed at night, you have a sort of revelation. Maybe the ignorance you were born with twenty years ago was sheer bliss. Maybe not knowing is better, easier, simpler. Maybe. Or maybe not.
