Some desire a car with an iPad where the stereo should be, but I'm all for the knobs and dials. Give me a cassette player and a stick shift. As I get older, I become less and so much more. Gone is my want for the latest gadget, and in comes the need for disconnection to become more connected.
Everything that promises us closeness seems to isolate us further. I love texting and calling close friends, yet I feel peeved by the use of emojis as a replacement for a response. The convenience of a double tap has replaced actual words, but to me it feels lazy and insincere. There's a bombardment of heart emojis instead of thank yous, laughing faces instead of laughter, and I'm aware that everything moves forward, and communication isn't exempt from evolution; however, some of the ways we communicate these days feel so detached from human feeling.Â
People now use Instagram Reels to express their emotions, but they don't actually want a response. Instead, the intention is to begin a back-and-forth emotion dump through random video clips. We hide so much of ourselves in jest in the hopes that it will hurt less, and there is guesswork surrounding actual cries for help. I know how old I sound here and out of touch I may seem, but what happened to a cup of tea and a talk by a rainy window? What happened to genuine emotion?  I miss the physical keyboard for the same reason. The feeling of immersing yourself in your messages and feeling a pushback for everything you type. The click had an existence that many technologies lack these days. Even when we were distant, there was a strange physicality to it. Now, it's all hurry and hush. A friend finds a gem amongst the doom pile, and I'm told that this means they're thinking of me. There is reassurance that this is a compliment, but why does it feel so far away?Â
I'm opposite in how I communicate vs how I write. I prefer telling over showing, and despite there being an element of both present in both instances, there is nothing better than a straight-forward "I love you" propelled from the heart like a rocket launch. I love at the volume I love because there feels like so much space to fill around me. Instead of "that sounds great, I can't wait to see you", there now exists a singular thumbs up. I am not a shortcut conversationalist; I am all for the long haul. I love the trivial details and the little dive bars inside people's minds. I love the rants people fall into when discussing something they love. The one modern advancement I am a massive fan of is voice messages. It allows you to hear the passion and feel the genuine feelings, but more than ever, I am valuing in-person connection.
I have reverted to many analog things. I like a notebook and the drag of a pen. I like notes on fridges and secret letters in jacket pockets. In the now, everything feels as if it's disappearing as quickly as it's materialising. We are birthing ghosts more than ever and losing each other amongst the noise. If there were a writing challenge attached to this write-up, then it would simply be a request to write something real. Not poetic but raw and straight cut. It would ask you to pay attention. Show your appreciation by telling a friend how much you value them, let a family member know you miss them, or give a call to someone you haven't spoken to in a while. It's too easy for us to hide behind the array of digital walls and only be half-present in a conversation; we've been given everything we need to disappear, but we must continue to exist.
Instead of queuing up to share anecdotes, let's revert to asking questions and investing in the stories. Even when you have limited knowledge or insight into what they are saying, listen and learn. If you are excited, then detail your excitement. I know time feels as if it is dwindling, as if we are running out of it, but simplified and looked at from a different angle, it will reveal that we are putting too much time into the escape. There is so much to run away from, and I understand the fear of the modern world, but don’t forget about those reasons to stay. The one hundred ads in every space aren’t selling to us, but rather the emptiness of us. It is sadly human to want and want and want and want and want until we forget everything we need and algorithms and technology have mastered how to prey on this.
The digital spaces that promise to water our gardens are very much the cause of our droughts. They swear to give us life yet leave us tired and emptier than when we began. They invite us to the table yet provide nothing but hunger. We are surrounded by problems disguised as solutions and their entire job is to trap us and trap us they do.
The constants throughout history are human beings and genuine connection. Whether it is a tavern and the clinking of steins or a round table full of food, together has always been what makes us human, and we must not lose it. We need inside jokes and discourse. We need nonsense and reminders of home. Not everything we do requires a quicker method. Kindness and love is never on the clock, it instead bends time and reinvents itself at will. The buzz of our busy is louder than ever, but the conception of our seconds has warped and I am willing to bet that we have the time for response and curiosity as we always have.
I encourage you to lose the double tap.
To lose the quick reactions and not to haunt messages with emojis.
I urge you, whole heartedly and with your entire self, to connect.
Keep kind and stay true x
The advances with technology and AI are so cold. I'm relieved that one of my teens would still phone a friend to discuss homework (often enough). My other teen isn't there yet, and more isolated. It seems.
At work and at home, with any free time ppl dive into their phones. I try connecting. Sometimes I can. Small wins are still wins.
I love all of this because I feel this too. I want disconnection. I want to be in one place fully and not 10 online places half heartedly. I want to write paragraph responses in text. I want to triple text because one thought led to more. I want people to know I love fiercely and for them to not be afraid of it all.