I know a lady who has a one month old daughter and an eighteen month old son. She has her groceries delivered, though it costs a little more. No meltdowns in the produce section, no fussing with car seats in the pouring down rain. No having to pull over and produce a bottle or two lest the heavens be sundered by audible evidence of infantile hunger pangs.
Another friend reads a lot of library books but hasn’t been inside the actual library building since “before the pandemic.”
As a warp nine introvert, I need a lot of solitude. Being around people, even my favorite people in the whole world, saps my energy. And yet, solitude can become isolation, and that–for me–has downsides. When I don’t have to make small talk at the post office, when I no longer know the check-out staff at my fave grocery store by name, when the simple courtesy of holding the door for somebody carrying packages isn’t part of my day… I lose both a sense of connection to my local community and opportunities to casually accommodate that community.
If the postal clerk speaks with an accent, I have to exert myself to listen more carefully. If the checkout lady wants to maunder on about her son in Alaska, I expect myself to offer some empathy for a parent whose only child is so far away. If I let the door slam on somebody carrying too many packages, I will feel remorse for my obliviousness to a stranger’s situation. I must, in other words, accommodate agendas other than my own, and do so as graciously as possible, because I need those people to be gracious toward me as well.
To the extent screens preserve us from the inconvenience of in-person encounters in our various village squares, screens might also be making it easier for us to dehumanize, ignore, and resent one another. Screen addiction might make it very easy to divide us from people with whom we really have much in common. This has been one of my pet theories, at least, when confronted with one of my siblings foghorning about how technology keeps us all so wonderfully connected.
I read this issue of Dense Discovery and got some insight into how my sibling and I might both be right. The jist of the newsletter and the article it cites is: Screens make it possible to stay in touch with the people we’re already close to–friends and family–
and to feel connected to genuine strangers (Taylor Swift, Benedict Cumberbatch), but screens cut out that middle orbital of neighbors, casual acquaintances, and “repetitive strangers,” like the checkout ladies and Tuesday morning library patrons.
That middle band of acquaintance is where we learn tolerance, and where we get a sense of belonging not to a family or a gym, but to a society. It’s where we turn for our next good friends, and where we sometimes must turn in emergencies. The middle ground matters, in other words, and we might well be losing it to screens.
So this is me, thinking about ways to put down the screens and go for a walk, shop in person, or visit the actual, wonderful library. Are there activities you could do on a screen but prefer to handle in person? Activities you will NEVER allow into the virtual realm?
PS: For those out weeding the geraniums, enjoying the fresh air, or planning that summer vacay… Lord Julian’s ninth mystery, A Gentleman of Questionable Judgment, has officially hit the shelves!
My partner and I have made a concerted effort to continue supporting, and even seeking out, these small interactions with our community members, once we read some research about how vital these small interactions are for one’s mental health. I’ve started framing them not as wasting time while someone yammers on in the grocery line, but rather topping up my cup of small interactions for the week. The side benefit of that is that it makes me more patient with others, too. I actually encourage a little more talking (thus probably driving the person behind me in line crazy ha!)
That little increment of patience is worth a lot in a world where we think in one-clicks, and insta’s, and streamed convenience. I learned early on as a mom that if your kid has a meltdown at the store, you can tell simply by looking at the faces around you who has been through the same experience and was never made to learn that special sort of public patience with a screaming kid. My friend having her groceries delivered will never know how many of us sympathize with the parent and the child==both==in a meltdown sitch.
I completely understand what you’re saying but honestly have no need to go out myself. I have always lived in my head and I’m pretty happy there. Also, I don’t have a problem talking with people and do, if I am out. I know the experts say social interaction is important for living longer but I can’t say it ever made me feel better. I selfishly think it’s a chore to interact in person with others. One of these days I may regret that.
My default perspective is the same, Karen. People = energy sink. Why do that when I’m low on spoons to begin with? I LIKED the fact that during the early pandemic, if we had to go to the store, we whisked around in our masks and didn’t dare make small talk in the dairy aisle.
But I also know that I am critical by nature (analytical on my good days, but mostly… critical), and I need to flex my social tolerance muscles lest I lose them entirely. You might simply be more tolerant and flexible than I am, or you have as much middle-distance interaction as you need with looking for any more.
(Grace, I hope this is displayed as a Reply to your comment since I clicked that Reply link.)
Anyway, I grew up as an Air Force brat and have lived in most areas of the US plus overseas so I have experienced quite a few different cultures and know there’s good and bad in most things. I’m also critical by nature (being an eldest child maybe?) but, with age, I have grown more able to keep my mouth shut over the little things. (But inside my head it’s another story…) I have also grown less willing to deal with things that I know do nothing but stress me out. So, yes, that means I have cut way back on family gatherings for now. It has helped. Avoidance is my go-to tactic.
I could NEVER give up my weekly trip to the library to pick up books that have come on hold. And I enjoy grocery shopping so I can choose the best produce, etc., and look for new items. On the other hand, I’m very happy to attend church services on Zoom on those weeks when the choir isn’t singing (about half of them). And during covid, I did love being able to attend distant book clubs online and that’s no longer an option now.
I guess it’s a mixed bag for me: so pleased to stay home and enjoy my own company most of the time, and treasuring those times when I’m out and about, especially in 1-on-1 and small group situations.
I have refused to shop on line unless I can’t find what I need. I LIKE doing my own grocery shopping especially. I also refuse to use the voice supports, I think it’s a way to avoid making my brain work fully. Even though I mostly live alone I do have my dogs who are pretty patient with me but they demand that I get up and play with them, feed them & take them to Canine Good Citizen class. I suspect they can track the days of the week and also tell time.
My cats are my bosses, and they will not tolerate much slacking!
I very rarely shopped with my young children. For one thing, I couldn’t carry them both at once with any degree of grace, and very soon, not at all. They decided to throw fits just once. I left my basket and drove home with them. When I returned after my husband came home, I found my cart in the back… and was told, “It happens.” They did the same for me when I was struck by a particularly bad headache. Those are “middle-distance” relationships to value. And I couldn’t tell you who they were, although everyone wore name tags.
With a living, breathing, husband, I am not alone, either. Makes a difference. We also live in a subdivision that is bigger all the time, but we keep a “middle distance” relationship with our neighbors. Of value, too.
I could never envision Younger Me in a subdivision. I wanted room for horses in the back yard, gardens, and roaming around to catch lightning bugs. I am no longer Younger Me, and never say never.
If at all possible I try to do my shopping and errands in person. Why? 1) I like looking at foods in the grocery store and finding unexpected sale items. 2) During face to face interactions I can *see* if the person doesn’t understand what I’m asking or explaining. 3) When I talk to someone on the phone I tend to rush thru the call and don’t always ask all the questions I need to. 4) I need the interaction to remind me of social conversational skills (how are you? Do you have any plans this weekend?, etc). However, when it gets to be over 100 degrees if I can’t finish errands by 10 am, I am more than willing to do things online or over the phone.
I always thought I was slightly introverted but I guess I am not really. If I am alone in my head too much I get very weird and I simply must go out and interact with the grocery store checkout clerk, the person on the treadmill next to me, the Indian gentleman at the gas station …. almost anybody will do in that situation. I think one of the great problems of our society is disconnection and that a lot of us are dying of loneliness, so I try very hard to keep connections and go to my book club, go to church, work at the soup kitchen, drive the refugees to their ESL class, etc. It’s all important, both for me and for the other person, not that I am so wonderful, but I am human and not a robot! Screens are valuable, but only as a tool, not as a substitute for human warmth and connection. I already finished Lord Julian’s latest — golly, the research and detail you put into these stories always astonish me. And I must say that any story in which St. Just appears is on my list of keepers and re-re-readers! Thank you again.
I don’t do anything online that I can do in person. Because of my extreme introversion, I need to force myself to be among others, but I can tell a positive difference when I do. I am much less anxious and feel more connected when I have these middle distance interactions. Enjoyment of the actual interaction is certainly not guaranteed, but I am dreading them less, so I count that as a win.
Being not young and also married and thus it is only a thought experiment: I can’t imagine using a dating app. I think I am so private (and protective of my data), no social media etc, that I can’t imagine creating a profile much less having anyone evaluate me on it. Just thinking about it gives me hives.
My husband and I are mostly retired, and so don’t have that many of those “middle ground” interactions with coworkers. However, we do try to keep interacting with people in the community by taking several classes at our senior center, as well as volunteering to help when there is an event. During covid we did get a taste of moving an in person event (our fitness class) to an on screen event, and it just wasn’t the same. In person, we break down into small groups and catch up with each other, talking and laughing about mundane events in each other’s lives. On screen it became focussed on the instructor, without the individual interactions that make the class so much fun. The social aspect of these classes are, to me, worth more even than the physical exercise. Shopping is another activity that, again during covid, we did on screen, but now that the threat is over (for the moment anyway), we do in person. Being able to walk down the individual aisles and choose each lemon and each bunch of vegetables ourselves, to see what other products might be displayed nearby, and yes, to pass other shoppers musing over products with a “pardon me” still has some meaning to this old lady. Stay safe. Stay well everyone!
What a thoughtful and wise piece, Grace. Thank you. I think you’ve hit upon something important, although I’ve experienced a fourth variant. Starting during the pandemic, when I spent far more time interacting through a screen than I ever had before, I gradually formed close relationships with individuals–real people–some of whom I’ve still never met in person because of our geographic distance from each other. But they’ve become true friends, and when I’ve been fortunate to meet and spend time with some of them in person, we’ve greeted each other as true friends. And crazy as it sounds, the “chat” function that sometimes accompanies online tedium makes forming close ties easier. But I also, as you do, still value my close “acquaintance” with grocery store employees, post office staff, my pharmacist, etc.
When the pandemic began, my husband and I moved from a large city in the Southeast to our vacation house in a very rural area of Western NC. My husband was still working remotely, but I was retired and loved the small town atmosphere. I learned the names and faces of salesclerks and neighbors. He retired after two years, but he is rather self-contained and was amazed that I had become actual friends with a few merchants and neighbors. Then Hurricane Helene brought death and destruction to our peaceful area. For three weeks we had no power, no screens but we had neighbors near and far, and we relied on each other and got to know so many wonderful people. For several days, we had no cell phone access to alert our families if we were even alive. Roads weren’t just damaged, they were gone. The power company uselessly relied solely on the internet to alert us, those people without any access to the internet, about using generators and other emergency items which resulted in my friend losing her house and her beloved dogs when power was restored. She is now living in a house that another neighbor vacated and moved in temporarily with his daughter so that the displaced family had a home. Yes, screens can keep us in touch, but they are no substitute for real people helping others in real ways.
My daughter once told me I’m the most introverted extrovert she’d ever known. That moniker has really stuck with me because she was 100% correct. I would much rather be at home, reading, doing my crafts, hanging out with the hubby. I LIKE being alone in my own little world. I do not actively seek out others and have even been known to avoid some interactions (no chats over the back fence, unless it’s with the lovely husky with blue eyes who will gladly listen to anything I wish to tell him and act interested, as long as I remember the Snausages).
However, if I do find myself at a party or gathering, I can talk more than 90% of the people there. I love getting into discussions and meeting new people. I might have fussed about going, but once I’m there, I love it.
As far as screen time goes, I have “met” some extraordinary people whose “friendship” I have come to revere. For example, take a bow, Grace Ann– I wouldn’t miss your weekly conversations, although I sometimes rudely don’t hold up my end of the conversations by not responding. I also have a YouTube friend who teaches me all kinds of crafts four days a week (https://www.youtube.com/@ThePoshPaperLady). I’ve never met her in person, but she knows me by my comments and cheers me on. There are several more that truly enhance my life, although with a screen between us.
Loved your comments today and each week, Grace. This is why I always tune in. Thank you for your friendship!