You Write Something With Substance If You Don’t Like It

Everyday, most hours, and often into the night, we are surrounded by other people.

We are neighbors whose lawns share an invisible, yet, dividing line.    We are two panes of glass and eight feet apart as we crawl through traffic.  We bump shoulders as I enter a store and you brush past with your parcels.

We notice blocking the aisle with your cart as my attempts are made to select packaged fruits, and preserved, nutrient deficient canned goods.   We are aware when excessively loud sighs are made, as we both wait in the self checkout line, where every person ahead, inexplicably, has decided to pay with a check, and, can’t seem to deliver their items to their bags with enough expeditiousness to avoid intervention by the pock-faced, laconic teenager empowered with the lockdown-lifting keycard.

We pump gas in proximity to one another.   We listen to music together at concerts.  We walk past each other in the park, or mall, or at an event, and never even feel a compulsion to acknowledge each other.  We go to bars to ignore everyone, even though we intended to be social.

And we’ve never been more distant from one another.

We have conversations that revolve around internet posts.  We see concerts as crappy video recording opportunities. We discuss what topics are “trending.”  We have dates that involve checking phones fifty percent of the time.

When do we actually talk to each other?

Who are you? Who I am I? And does it really matter based on what our perceived gain is overall?

Are we forced into accepting these “evolutions of social behavior” as common place?

They do not have to be.  It is not that difficult to reverse these trends, even if it only starts with you and I.  Simply commit to leaving your phone off for a few hours.  Or at a minimum, when you are with a group of people, turn your phone off.  No one will fault you for being attentive to the group.  And perhaps, with a proliferation of organic interaction at play, those with glassy eyes staring at their artificial glow boxes may feel a bit of guilt, and be a real person for a change.

What would it take to enjoy the world, organically, at the reach of your fingertips instead of what you think the world might be at the behest of your keystrokes?

Humbly yours,

J