Dear person inconveniently located elsewhere,
My dispute with the map
I have reviewed the distance between us and find it poorly designed. The map offers several roads, perhaps an airport, and absolutely no interest in the fact that I would like to drop round for half an hour. I am considering a strongly worded letter. In the meantime, I would like a small window into the day happening where you are.
Not a full report. A glimpse. The view from the chair you like, a story from the afternoon, or an account of the thing you thought I would appreciate. Being nearby lets people collect those details almost by accident. From here, I need to make an invitation, so this is me making one, with affection and a minor grievance against cartography.
News smaller than an international incident
I would welcome the little things: the meal that worked, the neighbour's latest undertaking, the bird whose confidence greatly exceeds its size. You do not need an important development to justify a message. My interest in your life is not restricted to events that would warrant interrupting a broadcast or assembling the family around a speakerphone.
And if the day is difficult, you do not need to make it sound better for the person far away. Distance occasionally turns concerned people into producers of excessively detailed questions. I am trying to avoid that promotion. You are not employed to reassure me, and your minute does not need to arrive with proof that everything is under control.
Geography gets a say in where we are. It need not have the last word on how close we feel.
Some useful things can travel
There may be something I can help arrange from here: an errand that can be handled remotely, a time to talk, a practical question you want to think through with somebody. Tell me what might help, and I will tell you honestly what I can manage. I would prefer to offer one useful thing rather than a heroic speech followed by a surprising absence of groceries.
There may also be nothing you want me to arrange. You can say, 'Please just listen,' and I will try to keep my imaginary clipboard out of view. A frustrating hour does not automatically appoint me head of solutions. Sometimes the point is simply that one person has had a day and another person would like to understand a little of it.
A window, with no surveillance equipment
This is not a request for your movements, your timetable, or evidence of what you ate. If a vegetable happens to feature, I shall receive the news with appropriate dignity. But you choose the detail. I want the kind of closeness that comes from somebody willingly telling a story, not the kind that requires them to account for the gaps between stories.
Our clocks and routines may not match. Let your message travel when it suits you, and I can pay attention when I have room. Anything that needs a timely reply should still use our usual way of contacting each other. This small ritual has not been authorized to replace a proper conversation, despite its excellent intentions and extremely modest luggage allowance.
The approved methods of crossing the distance
Open the invitation and choose video if you want me to see your face, voice with the camera off if you would rather speak, or writing if that fits better. Sixty seconds is a starting point, not a maximum. A few words can be enough; a longer account is welcome when the neighbour's undertaking has developed a second act.
You can review your reply before sending it to me, the person hosting this invitation. It is not automatically sent around a wider circle. There is no daily requirement, missed-day penalty, or pile of catch-up minutes accumulating in customs. Pause, skip, or decide it is not your thing. I would like this to make the distance easier to cross, not give you extra luggage to carry.
OUR LITTLE PROMISE
Under my formal objection to the map is the simple fact that I miss the ordinary bits of you.
If one of those bits would like to travel over, I would love to receive it. A minute can bring me something a pin on a map never will.
With affection from the wrong side of the distance