Too Much of Everything Except Each Other

I overheard a woman in a coffee shop recently talking very loudly about how she feels adrift from everyone. The woman listening to her was nodding her head enthusiastically in agreement. Then it was their turn in line. As the barista was trying to take their order, the one woman kept on with her rant turning to her head forward only to give the coffee order and pay. Then they turned, went to corner of the cafe and waited. Still ranting. Still nodding. But just to each other.

It was my turn. I asked the barista how her day was going. She looked at me warily and said, “Some days it feels like I just don’t exist.”

Adrift. Apart. Alone. I hear these things often. Mostly I hear them from people I know, but sometimes I overhear it from strangers, too. I also read about it in the news quite a bit. Even the Surgeon General of the US has stated that there is an ‘epidemic of loneliness’ with the U. S. Department of Health and Human Services issuing a statement and providing suggestions to establish a National Strategy to combat this ever growing problem. They list 6 ways to combat it, mentioning community gathering places like libraries and parks, having better public transportation, having your doctor warn you that loneliness is bad, doing more research to learn how to boost connection and the cultivation of a culture that engages one another.

Ok, well, that’s not going to solve anything honestly. And everyone already knows these things anyway.

They just don’t do it.

It’s not that we don’t know how. Maybe we are just out of practice. Or maybe we are simply adrift in our own cloud of too much of everything all of the time.

The other day I was watching an awards show on TV. Many of the shows they spoke about I had never heard of. I suppose that makes me outdated or ill-informed but it struck me that there are simply too many choices these days. If you look on the streaming services you see hundreds of shows. Hundreds! I suppose that’s great because then many can choose and find what suits them. And settle in for a night of binge watching.

The trouble is, it’s all so isolating.

Decades ago we didn’t have many choices. If you wanted to see a new movie, you went out to the movie theater. If you wanted to watch a show, you had 3 or 4 channels to choose from. We all watched pretty much the same thing. And you had to wait a week to see the next episode. The cliffhangers were so annoying! But we couldn’t wait. And we would show up at school or work the next day and everyone talked about it. We all pondered what would happen. Even if we hated the show or didn’t watch it, we knew someone who did. Or we saw it on the newsstand. You just could not avoid it.

But now, we are not connected in that way. That simplest of ways we never thought about because it just was. It was like this invisible thread that spun through our lives.

Gone now.

Other things are different now too. We used to have more occasion to go to stores and interact with clerks, to visit the library and talk to the librarian, meet at the park with playmates, talk on the phone. We asked people for directions. We knew the local merchants. We sent letters and birthday cards. We popped in to see people. Popped in! Rang the doorbell! Now people hide from the doorbell. They never answer their phone. And they ignore the merchants and clerks like I mentioned in the beginning of this post.

These days we can order things online and have it delivered the next day. We can download books onto a device, we have gps, we do not know local merchants or clerks because most stores are part of a big conglomerate and clerks come and go, and we rarely send a card because it’s easier just to click on an emoji. And writing letters? Oh gosh, not anymore. And we never, ever, simply pop in.

And this is making us lonelier than ever before.

I heard recently about a young man who committed suicide. He had friends who texted him. He would respond via text or with a thumbs up emoji. So they thought he was fine. They were checking in they said. But no one saw him. No one popped in. No one spoke to him directly. We aren’t comrades on the same ship anymore. We are checking with one another on our own boat, using individual devices and sending memes and emojis to communicate. We may as well be using Morse code. Or shorthand. When you think about it, it’s frightening. All these false, flat connections. No humanness anymore.

Sigh.

I don’t have any answers. Only questions I guess. And observations.

It makes me happy to see how far we have come over the years, but it has arrived with a very steep cost to our basic need for connection. We really do need the shelter of each another.

We just need to remember to provide it.

“I love those connections that make this big old world feel like a village.” ~ Gina Bellman

“When we seek for connection, we restore the world to wholeness. Our seemingly separate lives become meaningful as we discover how truly necessary we are to each other.” ~ Margaret Wheatley

“Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.” ~ Leo Buscaglia