If I hadn't had to reschedule my birthday party due to weather, I'd have seen about 40 people face to face last Sunday. Monday morning I had a phone conversation with my sister. Monday nightI met a friend for dinner. On Tuesday I got my RSV shot and talked to the nurse. Thursday I went to Trader Joe's and spoke to the checkout woman, but no one else. Yesterday a friend came over for an hour. That was nice. My granddaughter was on her way over when her car broke down. She's supposed to come today, and tonight I'm going to see live theater. I'll speak to the ticket person, but probably no one else. Everyday I speak with my daughter because we live together and love each other. Some weeks I see no one in person except my daughter. She rarely leaves the house. Covid caused rapid and wide changes, but technology started it.
Elizabeth, thank you so much for articulating what I could not in my essay. I appreciate it so much. You are such a good writer!! And you are like a true friend, even though we have never met. So hard to find true people these days. If I lived on the west coast I would want to join your dog group with my three dogs for sure. I would just invite myself lol. I look forward to your posts every Saturday. It is something I feel connected to. It feels like a warm cup of tea on a rainy day.
I was also quite surprised by how many of my followers sent me private emails after I posted that essay. They talked to me, via email, about how it hit them hard to realize they are the source of their own disconnection. I know I am guilty of that as well. So we all made a promise to get out more and smile at people and say hi and acknowledge others. I am sending birthday cards to everyone now, no more texts. I want to send something tangible with a handwritten note. My goal this year is to not only make and sustain connections, but make them more meaningful. I’ll post an update on that in part two. ❤️
Another really good Spark, Betsy. From the comments already posted, I see you've struck another familiar chord. As for me, I love casual contact with real humans. Case in point: yesterday was first a book event with Jennifer Silva Redmond, talking about her wonderful book, "Honeymoon at Sea." Later evening, I catch the trolley to attend a concert and poetry reading at San Diego State. It's the trolley ride that I had these encounters: The trolley arrived at my stop in Mission Valley, crowded with what I want to call "Dudes." And families with young "dudes." Where are you all going, I asked the young woman who gave me her seat. "Monster Trucks at the Stadium," she said. I got into a conversation with a young dude who told me about his noise-cancelling headphones...and I'm thinking, I just was at a literary event, I'm going to a concert with poetry & these fellow human beings are going to a Monster Truck event. We couldn't be more different in our entertainment venues and interests, yet we connected face-to-crowded-face on a quick ten-minute trolley ride. Why I love us.
Thanks so much for including my essays here in this lovely reflection. I am so buoyed by these tiny interactions. Haphazardly running into someone. Talking about the weather...one of my favorite things ever. I loved Janice Badger Nelson's essay, too. I can't remember if it was her or someone else that talked about how these small interactions, in addition to making us feel better, can often lead to deeper relationships. Like you with your dog-walkers, which makes me so happy. I think of the bravery and generosity of that first woman who told you about the regular gathering. It's hard in a world like ours to make that first gesture of inclusion, but still so important. And then to receive it and act on it. Bravery all around, but if we're not here on this earth to connect with other people, I have no idea what we're here for.
Wonderful subject to contemplate. I struggle with wanting to get out of my head and be with people and the overstimulation that comes from it. I think what’s missing is needing a neighbor or a friend close by whose place I can pop into for a quick chat then go home. We’re all so far apart and the journeys to get together build up the anxiety and excitement that makes the interaction a blur. We don’t say what we meant to or all we wanted to. There’s almost performance pressure.
In winter I like to get together more. It keeps my mind of the short days and give me somewhere else to be warm and comfortable. Great reads on this edition that I’ll take with me today. Thanks for sharing.
Very provocative essay Betsy. I’ve been thinking a lot about this issue recently, the lack of physical and emotional connection. We all crave it, need it, and know it but we don’t do it. Why? I think it goes back to what Daniel Kahneman points out in his book, “Thinking fast and slow”. The human brain has 2 systems, the fast system which is lazy and wants shortcuts as a means to an end. The slow system is more deliberate and analyzes before acting. This construct helps us understand why we take certain actions and hold certain beliefs. It can be applied to why we seek different means of connection. The fast lazy brain seeks connection through quick easy to reach shortcuts like social media, zoom calls, text messaging. Because the real ways we truly connect, by activating the slow system, takes time and effort, like meeting a friend for coffee or planning a dinner. The quick and easy delivers instant dopamine hits akin to a drug. But it doesn’t create lasting synapses and memory that creates meaningful connections. Anyway, lots more to discuss on this topic beyond this medium we call Substack. Best to discuss over coffee ;)
Even though I'm someone who greatly values my alone time, I long for more true connection with humans, not less.....I find so many people (strangers) look genuinely surprised or cautious on the elevator in my building or on the NYC streets when I say, "Good morning...." Or... "Have a lovely day...." but I keep at it anyway!....Occasionally there's smiles, a laugh, a brief connection. For me, a simple greeting is yes, a little thing, but also big. So many people are sadly always plugged in....even when walking my dog, so often I attempt to talk to another dog owner walking towards us and they have to take the earbuds out of their ears, to be aware of another in their path.....I live in hope that more of us will awaken more fully and be more present -- for one another. this essay hits home, can't ya tell? thanks for writing it, betsy! xo's
Betsy, I have a wicker shopping trolley and, even after ten years, people stop and ask me where I bought it? Chance conversations are not unusual, despite being as good as 80, and this is probably reflected in the short stories I post to substack. Going to a couple of local cafes lead to conversations and occasionally sharing a table. I have made friends with a young Hong Kongian woman, who has opened a Chinese book shop on Beeston High Road. She arrived two years ago and I have bought two books from her, the last one about a picture story book about a bus, with text in English and Chinese. This led to her insisting that I meet her boyfriend who happens to like buses too. We’re meeting next Friday. I am full of admiration for dog people because it involves leadership responsibilities I haven’t got it in me to undertake. Thanks to you, I am learning more by the day, now that my granddaughter’s dog, Cedric, is telling the world what it’s like to have a vet surgeon as a mother. Already a tale about meeting other dogs in the park!🐰
Where are all my friends hiding? I've reached out to them and it seems they are content to stay in their hiding spaces, tucked away from me & everyone else. I can't seem to get them to come out and play, to come out and talk, to recognize my existence. My family is on the east coast, so I chat or text with them, on occassion. My spouse's Latino family seems to be afraid of me, so they limit conversation: guess I'm too direct and I make them uncomfortable (I always feel they don't want to know the truth). The few friends I've kept from writing groups, quilting groups, theatre groups, have run into their quiet corners as well, and don't seem interested in coming out to play (chat). And my spouse and I are struggling to find NEW conversation. So, I walk my dog Kali and briefly chat with dog walkers in the neighborhood, not remembering their names (I do remember the names of the dogs on my good days).
Did it all start with retirement? Was it exacerbated with COVID? Did I scare them away with my senior wisdom that doesn't want to welcome new arguments? Am I just lazy (I don't even want to join a book club because "they" decide on the book to read and discuss and I don't want to
host.)
I feel like I'm on a comfortable island, wishing and hoping that a ship full of people will stop and at least ask for directions.
Thank you for the introduction to Janice. Her title reminded me of Bob Dylan’s song “Too Much of Nothing,” covered by Peter, Paul and Mary. Too much of nothing “just makes a fellow mean,” said Dylan a long time ago. When it comes human connection, too much of nothing is what so many of us have.
I'm in the fortunate/unfortunate position that my daily work involves a lot of close intimate connection with people. It's deeply rewarding, but what it means in practice is that I have very little desire for connection at the end of the day or on weekends. It's a conundrum I don't quite know how to resolve. I love my work, but my friendships suffer as I need a lot of alonetime too. Thanks for your writing, it has got me thinking 🤔
The stay-cation forced by a virus that killed millions also killed off social inclinations for many, including me. Even if unwittingly. It took a long time for my husband and I to realize that we could go out to dinner, for example. And the social engagements to which we were invited have only recently begun to occur again.
Having a rescue pup last June compounded our social isolation because we hunkered until he began to feel at ease if we left the house without him to see a movie or to dine with friends. We've been able to do more as he acclimated and it's a revelation!
Isolation is a core of the writer's life, but I am undeniably outgoing, and filled with more zest than most - oh, and my writer's groove has been re-ignited, too. More 'stuff' to write about -
Thanks for this. The pandemic made me realize how social interaction with strangers or near strangers is a vitamin we need, and yet do I do enough to get more of it now that things are easier? No I don’t. I should. As a writer working from home in a rural place, I can go days without having an IRL conversation. Work to be done.
The last week I've seen more people than I've seen in months, both friends and family. last night we went to the local authors event and I saw dozens of people I know.
It is pretty wild to suddenly be thrust into a social whirl and I'm enjoying it so far.
It will be strange to go from this busy book tour month back to my usual quiet life, and the future will be especially different as I no longer have Ready, my conversation starter dog who everyone loved and who loved everyone.
I have worked with the public for too many years and experience so many rude and entitled humans on the daily. I make my best effort to give random compliments: "Nice boots. Great earrings. Love your manicure" etc, because EVERY time the wave/exchange of positive energy gives me a slight bump in mood, a smile, a breath.
If I hadn't had to reschedule my birthday party due to weather, I'd have seen about 40 people face to face last Sunday. Monday morning I had a phone conversation with my sister. Monday nightI met a friend for dinner. On Tuesday I got my RSV shot and talked to the nurse. Thursday I went to Trader Joe's and spoke to the checkout woman, but no one else. Yesterday a friend came over for an hour. That was nice. My granddaughter was on her way over when her car broke down. She's supposed to come today, and tonight I'm going to see live theater. I'll speak to the ticket person, but probably no one else. Everyday I speak with my daughter because we live together and love each other. Some weeks I see no one in person except my daughter. She rarely leaves the house. Covid caused rapid and wide changes, but technology started it.
Elizabeth, thank you so much for articulating what I could not in my essay. I appreciate it so much. You are such a good writer!! And you are like a true friend, even though we have never met. So hard to find true people these days. If I lived on the west coast I would want to join your dog group with my three dogs for sure. I would just invite myself lol. I look forward to your posts every Saturday. It is something I feel connected to. It feels like a warm cup of tea on a rainy day.
I was also quite surprised by how many of my followers sent me private emails after I posted that essay. They talked to me, via email, about how it hit them hard to realize they are the source of their own disconnection. I know I am guilty of that as well. So we all made a promise to get out more and smile at people and say hi and acknowledge others. I am sending birthday cards to everyone now, no more texts. I want to send something tangible with a handwritten note. My goal this year is to not only make and sustain connections, but make them more meaningful. I’ll post an update on that in part two. ❤️
Another really good Spark, Betsy. From the comments already posted, I see you've struck another familiar chord. As for me, I love casual contact with real humans. Case in point: yesterday was first a book event with Jennifer Silva Redmond, talking about her wonderful book, "Honeymoon at Sea." Later evening, I catch the trolley to attend a concert and poetry reading at San Diego State. It's the trolley ride that I had these encounters: The trolley arrived at my stop in Mission Valley, crowded with what I want to call "Dudes." And families with young "dudes." Where are you all going, I asked the young woman who gave me her seat. "Monster Trucks at the Stadium," she said. I got into a conversation with a young dude who told me about his noise-cancelling headphones...and I'm thinking, I just was at a literary event, I'm going to a concert with poetry & these fellow human beings are going to a Monster Truck event. We couldn't be more different in our entertainment venues and interests, yet we connected face-to-crowded-face on a quick ten-minute trolley ride. Why I love us.
Thanks so much for including my essays here in this lovely reflection. I am so buoyed by these tiny interactions. Haphazardly running into someone. Talking about the weather...one of my favorite things ever. I loved Janice Badger Nelson's essay, too. I can't remember if it was her or someone else that talked about how these small interactions, in addition to making us feel better, can often lead to deeper relationships. Like you with your dog-walkers, which makes me so happy. I think of the bravery and generosity of that first woman who told you about the regular gathering. It's hard in a world like ours to make that first gesture of inclusion, but still so important. And then to receive it and act on it. Bravery all around, but if we're not here on this earth to connect with other people, I have no idea what we're here for.
Wonderful subject to contemplate. I struggle with wanting to get out of my head and be with people and the overstimulation that comes from it. I think what’s missing is needing a neighbor or a friend close by whose place I can pop into for a quick chat then go home. We’re all so far apart and the journeys to get together build up the anxiety and excitement that makes the interaction a blur. We don’t say what we meant to or all we wanted to. There’s almost performance pressure.
In winter I like to get together more. It keeps my mind of the short days and give me somewhere else to be warm and comfortable. Great reads on this edition that I’ll take with me today. Thanks for sharing.
Very provocative essay Betsy. I’ve been thinking a lot about this issue recently, the lack of physical and emotional connection. We all crave it, need it, and know it but we don’t do it. Why? I think it goes back to what Daniel Kahneman points out in his book, “Thinking fast and slow”. The human brain has 2 systems, the fast system which is lazy and wants shortcuts as a means to an end. The slow system is more deliberate and analyzes before acting. This construct helps us understand why we take certain actions and hold certain beliefs. It can be applied to why we seek different means of connection. The fast lazy brain seeks connection through quick easy to reach shortcuts like social media, zoom calls, text messaging. Because the real ways we truly connect, by activating the slow system, takes time and effort, like meeting a friend for coffee or planning a dinner. The quick and easy delivers instant dopamine hits akin to a drug. But it doesn’t create lasting synapses and memory that creates meaningful connections. Anyway, lots more to discuss on this topic beyond this medium we call Substack. Best to discuss over coffee ;)
Even though I'm someone who greatly values my alone time, I long for more true connection with humans, not less.....I find so many people (strangers) look genuinely surprised or cautious on the elevator in my building or on the NYC streets when I say, "Good morning...." Or... "Have a lovely day...." but I keep at it anyway!....Occasionally there's smiles, a laugh, a brief connection. For me, a simple greeting is yes, a little thing, but also big. So many people are sadly always plugged in....even when walking my dog, so often I attempt to talk to another dog owner walking towards us and they have to take the earbuds out of their ears, to be aware of another in their path.....I live in hope that more of us will awaken more fully and be more present -- for one another. this essay hits home, can't ya tell? thanks for writing it, betsy! xo's
Betsy, I have a wicker shopping trolley and, even after ten years, people stop and ask me where I bought it? Chance conversations are not unusual, despite being as good as 80, and this is probably reflected in the short stories I post to substack. Going to a couple of local cafes lead to conversations and occasionally sharing a table. I have made friends with a young Hong Kongian woman, who has opened a Chinese book shop on Beeston High Road. She arrived two years ago and I have bought two books from her, the last one about a picture story book about a bus, with text in English and Chinese. This led to her insisting that I meet her boyfriend who happens to like buses too. We’re meeting next Friday. I am full of admiration for dog people because it involves leadership responsibilities I haven’t got it in me to undertake. Thanks to you, I am learning more by the day, now that my granddaughter’s dog, Cedric, is telling the world what it’s like to have a vet surgeon as a mother. Already a tale about meeting other dogs in the park!🐰
Where are all my friends hiding? I've reached out to them and it seems they are content to stay in their hiding spaces, tucked away from me & everyone else. I can't seem to get them to come out and play, to come out and talk, to recognize my existence. My family is on the east coast, so I chat or text with them, on occassion. My spouse's Latino family seems to be afraid of me, so they limit conversation: guess I'm too direct and I make them uncomfortable (I always feel they don't want to know the truth). The few friends I've kept from writing groups, quilting groups, theatre groups, have run into their quiet corners as well, and don't seem interested in coming out to play (chat). And my spouse and I are struggling to find NEW conversation. So, I walk my dog Kali and briefly chat with dog walkers in the neighborhood, not remembering their names (I do remember the names of the dogs on my good days).
Did it all start with retirement? Was it exacerbated with COVID? Did I scare them away with my senior wisdom that doesn't want to welcome new arguments? Am I just lazy (I don't even want to join a book club because "they" decide on the book to read and discuss and I don't want to
host.)
I feel like I'm on a comfortable island, wishing and hoping that a ship full of people will stop and at least ask for directions.
Thank you for the introduction to Janice. Her title reminded me of Bob Dylan’s song “Too Much of Nothing,” covered by Peter, Paul and Mary. Too much of nothing “just makes a fellow mean,” said Dylan a long time ago. When it comes human connection, too much of nothing is what so many of us have.
I'm in the fortunate/unfortunate position that my daily work involves a lot of close intimate connection with people. It's deeply rewarding, but what it means in practice is that I have very little desire for connection at the end of the day or on weekends. It's a conundrum I don't quite know how to resolve. I love my work, but my friendships suffer as I need a lot of alonetime too. Thanks for your writing, it has got me thinking 🤔
I love face to face the best, why, as a teacher I much prefer family conferences to report cards
The stay-cation forced by a virus that killed millions also killed off social inclinations for many, including me. Even if unwittingly. It took a long time for my husband and I to realize that we could go out to dinner, for example. And the social engagements to which we were invited have only recently begun to occur again.
Having a rescue pup last June compounded our social isolation because we hunkered until he began to feel at ease if we left the house without him to see a movie or to dine with friends. We've been able to do more as he acclimated and it's a revelation!
Isolation is a core of the writer's life, but I am undeniably outgoing, and filled with more zest than most - oh, and my writer's groove has been re-ignited, too. More 'stuff' to write about -
Thanks for this. The pandemic made me realize how social interaction with strangers or near strangers is a vitamin we need, and yet do I do enough to get more of it now that things are easier? No I don’t. I should. As a writer working from home in a rural place, I can go days without having an IRL conversation. Work to be done.
The last week I've seen more people than I've seen in months, both friends and family. last night we went to the local authors event and I saw dozens of people I know.
It is pretty wild to suddenly be thrust into a social whirl and I'm enjoying it so far.
It will be strange to go from this busy book tour month back to my usual quiet life, and the future will be especially different as I no longer have Ready, my conversation starter dog who everyone loved and who loved everyone.
I have worked with the public for too many years and experience so many rude and entitled humans on the daily. I make my best effort to give random compliments: "Nice boots. Great earrings. Love your manicure" etc, because EVERY time the wave/exchange of positive energy gives me a slight bump in mood, a smile, a breath.