, originally uploaded by lauren colton.
Years ago, I attended a co-worker’s Thanksgiving Day dinner. After the fine dinner, the topic of conversation started to get spiritual and philosophical. One young person put this out there — he asked, how do we love without connecting? I am sure he did not originate this. Maybe he was reading Rumi that week, but after all these years I remember that conversation.
Connecting has been on my mind lately. I recently had a birthday and maybe as some rite of passage, the mind goes through these moments. It is a force of rediscovery for growth. Capitol Hill has hundreds of people in its streets, parks, and cafes searching for interactions, looking for some kind of connection. This brings us together, oddly enough. Is this some kind of connection without connecting?
I attended a recent business seminar where a speaker insisted that making a personal connection is important in getting another person on your side. In this case, it is as a way to gain someone’s business. That is fine. I get it. Remember their names, look them in the eye, and let them do the talking. This is not what I am looking for at least at this moment.
My day job has me going to Bellevue once a week. Although I would love to bike it, I have to take a bus with my approximate six pounds of office stuff (laptop, office papers, etc). Taking the bus offers some tiny gifts. All around me on the 550 to Bellevue, I see people connecting. They are electronically connecting. My ears connect to my iPod listening to Eels or The Pixies or whatever randomly pops up. The guy seated next to me connects to his device to read articles from The Stranger. Across the aisle, an older man is consulting his PDA with the urgent business matters of the morning. The guy in front of him connects to his Kindle reading a novel or maybe a book on self-improvement. That is fine. I get it. Entertainment, socializing, and work stuff are important parts of our lives. Again, not what I am looking for at this moment.
I was at the Joe Bar recently and there were five tables with just one person at each of them, including mine. We are tapping away at laptops, reading iPhones, or writing in journals. A warm and ecstatic sadness exists here that is very touching. Outside, the rain slowly smacks the sidewalk as a soundtrack for our collective emotions. And this, this is connecting emotions and elements.
All I have to do engage someone in conversation is look over, smile, and nod a hello and let a conversation begin. Now that is it! That would be a real connection. The business seminar man would definitely agree.
The sheer act of writing about connection is my delicate attempt to reach out and connect to people. I am not trying to be precious; I am not trying to be deep. That does not suit me. I guess what I want to do is validate my being and the fact that I am all right with everything about me. Maybe some one out there can agree or just think that this all just foolishness. I wonder what the guy at the Thanksgiving Day dinner would think. Love without connecting. Do we need to sacrifice something to find what truly connects us? That is we should go beyond the material desires. If we strip away such constraints, do we find a true moment of existence?
Now, I may never talk to the guy across from me on this mezzanine or to the person below writing in his book. Yet, I feel I know who they are. The rain outside falls harder, the guy on the iPhone sips his beer; the laptop students nibble the last of their pastries. We are at separate tables, but we are sharing a supper. I wonder who they imagine is sharing their table with them quietly connecting. Who fills that empty chair just across that small table silently connecting? I get up from the table, push in both empty chairs, pack my stuff, and walk out into the pouring rain.
“how do we love without connecting?”
LOL what the hell kind of hippie bullcrap is that? That question doesn’t even mean anything.
you sound as though you are in your early 20’s.
I think this was a nice read. Thanks for sharing. That question does mean something, and it is sticking with me…people “love” without connecting all the time-it may make someone who reads this feel confronted and defensive (ahem, tkos). I like this post even if you are in your early 20s. ;)
every week or two i read another news article, blog post, etc. discussing how disconnected people are from each other because of technology, going to coffeeshops and seeing everyone on their laptop, etc. but no matter how eloquent they are, it never makes sense to me.
i’ve been living in seattle for 22 years. i spent a lot of time in coffeeshops before they had wireless and before anybody i knew had an internet connection at home. people speak as though there was a glory time where you’d sit down at a coffeeshop and a stranger would sit down next to you and say “well hidelly-ho, neighbor! what’s your name?”
coffeeshops back then were much like coffeeshops today. students were working on homework. people were reading books. employees who had work that they could do remotely were doing it remotely. a few tables had friends chatting. some of them allowed cigarettes.
i’m a single young woman who’s reasonably cute and an extrovert. random people did not sit down next to me and chat me up. seattle was seattle before the average person had a laptop or a cellphone. people aren’t unfriendly here, they’re just not inclined to interrupt a person at a coffeeshop and assume that they’re sitting in a coffeeshop because they want to make friends. and i for one am grateful for that, because i love making new friends, but when i’m in a coffeeshop, i’m there to work, not socialize.
i don’t understand what feels disconnected about that. there’s no shortage of places and methods to meet new and interesting people, and i’ve seen no evidence that the presence or absence of laptops transforms people into having different personalities.