Tuesday, May 31, 2011
On Missing
It's a strange thing when something you own goes missing. While it may in fact still exist in some way, the fact that you can't find it makes one wonder where it goes until you find it. As a kid some of my favorite things were lost forever. For what seemed like an eternity I wished that I could get a specific Transformer. This Transformer changed from a cassette tape into a black panther. Now I know it's not the most logical choice for a robot trying to maintain a disguise, but the heart wants what the heart wants. Finally I was able to get my hands on one. I played with it endlessly until one day I did something terrible. Our house had floor vents where the heat came up. They were slatted in such a way that they could be closed to stop air from coming in, but on this day they were wide open. The thing with a slat and something shaped like a cassette is that my child brain couldn't stop itself from inserting the toy into it. I still remember the horror of realization of what I had done as the Transformer leaped from my fingers and slid into the ventilation system. I immediately tore the cover off and stuffed my little arm as far down the vent as it could go, but it was no use. My toy was lost. For weeks I would periodically check that vent, in hopes that maybe by some miracle my toy would return to me, but it never did. For all I know it's still rattling around somewhere in the old house, waiting to be discovered. Another part of me thinks that maybe at some point it simply ceased to exist and no amount of searching would ever find it.
I loaned my favorite GI Joe to someone, going against my better judgement, and when I asked for it back he said he "lost" it. Now while it's true I think he was lying in order to keep what was mine, I often wonder if that action figure exists anymore. Sure there were probably thousands of that kind made back in the day, but what happened to mine? Where did it go? With energy it's believed that it cannot be destroyed. It can only be transformed. I doubt the same rules apply to toys from my childhood. Maybe they're both sitting in some landfill. Maybe somewhere someone has them and is thankful someone like me lost them in the first place. Maybe they somehow managed to get recycled in such a way that they became something else. That's the problem with things that go missing and are never found, we just don't know. For us their existence simply stops.
If you think about all the things you've ever owned in your life and how much of it is no longer with you. Old toys, old clothes, old furniture. Things that once were so important to us are gone, usually to make way for something new. As I've gotten older I've made a point to try and give away things rather than throw away what I no longer have a need for. I'd like to believe that someone out there got a little bit more use out of it before finally having to pitch it into the garbage. I've talked about heirlooms before, which seem to fall into their own category of item, even if that classification would be hard to describe. What about older letters or old photos? At one point it was important enough to put pen to paper and record the thoughts of the moment. The moment is gone and all that remains are those words on some crumpled paper. If that paper is lost what happens to the thoughts that were associated with it? Are they both lost into that endless void where all lost things seem to go?
Maybe it's a little arrogant to think that just because we can't see something it doesn't exist anymore. Then again our reality is the only one we know so until proven otherwise we are bound by what we can interact with, so on some level it doesn't matter where it is if we can't perceive it. It's entirely possible that we're not meant to find certain things once they go missing. It's also possible that there are things in our lives that we're only meant to have for a short while before they move on to wherever they're headed. It's very much like the people who pass through our lives. They don't cease to be when they leave our lives. Maybe those inanimate objects that tumble from our grasp are off living a whole other life beyond us. I'd like to think that's possible.
I loaned my favorite GI Joe to someone, going against my better judgement, and when I asked for it back he said he "lost" it. Now while it's true I think he was lying in order to keep what was mine, I often wonder if that action figure exists anymore. Sure there were probably thousands of that kind made back in the day, but what happened to mine? Where did it go? With energy it's believed that it cannot be destroyed. It can only be transformed. I doubt the same rules apply to toys from my childhood. Maybe they're both sitting in some landfill. Maybe somewhere someone has them and is thankful someone like me lost them in the first place. Maybe they somehow managed to get recycled in such a way that they became something else. That's the problem with things that go missing and are never found, we just don't know. For us their existence simply stops.
If you think about all the things you've ever owned in your life and how much of it is no longer with you. Old toys, old clothes, old furniture. Things that once were so important to us are gone, usually to make way for something new. As I've gotten older I've made a point to try and give away things rather than throw away what I no longer have a need for. I'd like to believe that someone out there got a little bit more use out of it before finally having to pitch it into the garbage. I've talked about heirlooms before, which seem to fall into their own category of item, even if that classification would be hard to describe. What about older letters or old photos? At one point it was important enough to put pen to paper and record the thoughts of the moment. The moment is gone and all that remains are those words on some crumpled paper. If that paper is lost what happens to the thoughts that were associated with it? Are they both lost into that endless void where all lost things seem to go?
Maybe it's a little arrogant to think that just because we can't see something it doesn't exist anymore. Then again our reality is the only one we know so until proven otherwise we are bound by what we can interact with, so on some level it doesn't matter where it is if we can't perceive it. It's entirely possible that we're not meant to find certain things once they go missing. It's also possible that there are things in our lives that we're only meant to have for a short while before they move on to wherever they're headed. It's very much like the people who pass through our lives. They don't cease to be when they leave our lives. Maybe those inanimate objects that tumble from our grasp are off living a whole other life beyond us. I'd like to think that's possible.
Thursday, May 26, 2011
On Chaos
"You know the thing about chaos? It's fair." I was driving the other day and saw there was roadwork being done on the side of the road. There was a sign that said a flagman may be present to help direct traffic, but when I got there it was just three guys standing by the side of the road, looking up at the fourth man in the cherry picker doing whatever he needed to. They were standing to the side of the road and it was apparent they were banking on the assumption that no one would go out of their way to disrupt their work. In that moment it made me realize just how many different aspects of our lives are being gambled on. The gamble is that since the past has shown the situation to be safe that it will continue to be safe. That and most rational people aren't interested in throwing the world into chaos. With a simple jerk of the wheel I could have disrupted the quiet order of the world. Not just their world, but everyone associated would have been affected because when others heard about it, they would have realized safety is an illusion.
There are a lot of assumptions when it comes to the rules. We assume that for the most part that everyone is going to play along with the rules that society has set out. Only those on the fringes will disregard the laws. In a way there is an assumption there too. Drug dealers will deal drugs and eventually get into fights with other drug dealers or the cops. If you don't take or sell drugs then it's assumed that your world will never bump into that one. We hear about crime, but for the most part that's all it is, something we hear about. It's when it comes wandering into our backyard that we see the rules are only for those who choose to follow them. It's a strange thing to know that we even have rules of engagement when it comes to war. We'd like to believe that we're more civilized that those that came before us. It's alright to shoot this person, but not that person. They blew this up so we're allowed to respond by blowing up that. It's expected. It's how we're supposed to behave, assuming everyone is in agreement.
I think that is part of the thrill we get from post apocalyptic stories. It shows us a world where the rules have been thrown out. Society is only polite as long as the lights stay on and there is food on the table. In those stories people only worry about one thing and that's to survive, regardless of what's necessary to get through to tomorrow. You can feel guilty about it later, but they know that you have to be alive in order to feel anything. There are times in our lives when it seems like the rules are put in place to hold us back or keep us down. There are times too when we'd like nothing more than to rage against the system. The rational part of our mind may understand that it won't help anything in the long run, but the part of us that's still behaves like a three year old wants what we want and anything less deserves to get smashed into a million pieces as we stomp our feet in anger. Every day we go out into the world and live by the unspoken rules where we're not going to rock the boat so that everyone around us can continue to go about their lives without incident. It's when there is a complete disregard for those rules that really scares us. Could it be that the next time it's easier to continue that disregard? Or could it escalate into complete anarchy?
There are a lot of assumptions when it comes to the rules. We assume that for the most part that everyone is going to play along with the rules that society has set out. Only those on the fringes will disregard the laws. In a way there is an assumption there too. Drug dealers will deal drugs and eventually get into fights with other drug dealers or the cops. If you don't take or sell drugs then it's assumed that your world will never bump into that one. We hear about crime, but for the most part that's all it is, something we hear about. It's when it comes wandering into our backyard that we see the rules are only for those who choose to follow them. It's a strange thing to know that we even have rules of engagement when it comes to war. We'd like to believe that we're more civilized that those that came before us. It's alright to shoot this person, but not that person. They blew this up so we're allowed to respond by blowing up that. It's expected. It's how we're supposed to behave, assuming everyone is in agreement.
I think that is part of the thrill we get from post apocalyptic stories. It shows us a world where the rules have been thrown out. Society is only polite as long as the lights stay on and there is food on the table. In those stories people only worry about one thing and that's to survive, regardless of what's necessary to get through to tomorrow. You can feel guilty about it later, but they know that you have to be alive in order to feel anything. There are times in our lives when it seems like the rules are put in place to hold us back or keep us down. There are times too when we'd like nothing more than to rage against the system. The rational part of our mind may understand that it won't help anything in the long run, but the part of us that's still behaves like a three year old wants what we want and anything less deserves to get smashed into a million pieces as we stomp our feet in anger. Every day we go out into the world and live by the unspoken rules where we're not going to rock the boat so that everyone around us can continue to go about their lives without incident. It's when there is a complete disregard for those rules that really scares us. Could it be that the next time it's easier to continue that disregard? Or could it escalate into complete anarchy?
Sunday, May 22, 2011
On Being Ready
How do you know when you're ready? Ready for anything really. What does it take for you to finally get to a place mentally that feels like you're prepared? There are so many things in this world that are beyond our control. Things that seem to jump out at us when we least expect it. If you're reading this then you've managed to overcome those things whether you were ready for them or not. Sure there are things in our lives that we may hesitate in doing until everything is ideal, but all too often we don't have that luxury. In some cases we are at our best when situations are thrust upon us. We behave like a muscle being forced to lift a heavy weight. We must grow stronger to overcome. Being prepared may have allowed us time to assess the situation fully, but there are times when we simply have to act without a fully formed planned to refer back to. Could it be argued that some of the best things in our lives are those that are sprung on us?
There have been many opportunities in my life that I've let go by because I've talked myself out of being ready. I reminds me a bit of Casey at the Bat, where waiting for the ideal pitch just means you've left yourself with a single chance to succeed or fail. It makes me wonder though if my hesitation has lead me down the path of where I'm supposed to be. If I didn't feel ready for something does that mean I wasn't? It's possible if I had been forced to go forward not feeling 100% committed to the decision that I may have fallen on my face, but is that any worse than watching an opportunity sail by because you didn't want to swing at it? I suppose both could be considering failures in their own right.
As with many things, the picture becomes clear as we look back on it. Our decisions may seem irrational or erratic when we view them along with the eventual outcome of it all. Sometimes I think it would be better if we could know our future to some degree. To know that if you take Option A that things will turn out alright. You may not get the details of how you'll get there, but you know in the end that things will be fine. That kind of peace of mind would make decisions so much easier. It's obviously not an option though. That sense of not knowing can leave us paralyzed in such a way that it seems better to stay put, even if we know it's not what we want. A known bad situation is better than a potentially worse one. The chance for a reward doesn't justify the gamble. As we get older though we start to see all the miss opportunities. We see all the times that we could have taken that leap, but instead chose to be cautious. Being cautious isn't always a bad thing. It can lead to regret for a life not lived. Still the question remains: How do you know when you're ready? Do you wait for a sign? Do you prepare yourself as much as possible and when the time comes make that jump regardless of if things are perfect? Maybe there is a limit to the amount of readiness we can have for anything. After that we're just stalling. I guess it comes down to which you'd rather live with; an opportunity that has a chance of failure or a missed opportunity that means you can't possible fail, but you have no chance at success either?
There have been many opportunities in my life that I've let go by because I've talked myself out of being ready. I reminds me a bit of Casey at the Bat, where waiting for the ideal pitch just means you've left yourself with a single chance to succeed or fail. It makes me wonder though if my hesitation has lead me down the path of where I'm supposed to be. If I didn't feel ready for something does that mean I wasn't? It's possible if I had been forced to go forward not feeling 100% committed to the decision that I may have fallen on my face, but is that any worse than watching an opportunity sail by because you didn't want to swing at it? I suppose both could be considering failures in their own right.
As with many things, the picture becomes clear as we look back on it. Our decisions may seem irrational or erratic when we view them along with the eventual outcome of it all. Sometimes I think it would be better if we could know our future to some degree. To know that if you take Option A that things will turn out alright. You may not get the details of how you'll get there, but you know in the end that things will be fine. That kind of peace of mind would make decisions so much easier. It's obviously not an option though. That sense of not knowing can leave us paralyzed in such a way that it seems better to stay put, even if we know it's not what we want. A known bad situation is better than a potentially worse one. The chance for a reward doesn't justify the gamble. As we get older though we start to see all the miss opportunities. We see all the times that we could have taken that leap, but instead chose to be cautious. Being cautious isn't always a bad thing. It can lead to regret for a life not lived. Still the question remains: How do you know when you're ready? Do you wait for a sign? Do you prepare yourself as much as possible and when the time comes make that jump regardless of if things are perfect? Maybe there is a limit to the amount of readiness we can have for anything. After that we're just stalling. I guess it comes down to which you'd rather live with; an opportunity that has a chance of failure or a missed opportunity that means you can't possible fail, but you have no chance at success either?
Sunday, May 15, 2011
On the First Time
We put a lot of value on firsts. A child's first birthday. Our first love. Our first broken bone. The first job we get. The first time we lose a job. As we go through life it seems like our chances at firsts go down. That's not to say we're missing out on new experiences. Life is a constantly changing series of experiences, each of which is unique because we're different when they happen. So even the same event done a second or third time could almost be thought of as the first time because up until that moment it couldn't have taken place in that exact way until it did. The first time something happens to us it tends to leave a permanent impression on us though. In some cases the first becomes the standard in which others are judged. That can be both a gift and a curse since it's not always fair to compare what has happened with what could happen. Like with many first time sexual experiences they can be awkward, painful, and ultimately a poor indicator of how future experiences will be.
Many of us may still remember our first love. The ones between the first love and today's could be a jumbled mess of memories, but that first one will always be with us in some way. I think a good part of that is because our body and mind hadn't been exposed to that emotion up until that point. Never having experienced something like that before only makes it that much more intense. Combined with the fact that when we're young everything is already more intense. As with many things in life, that level of intensity can't be sustained for very long. Eventually it fades to more manageable levels and we'd like to think that with age and experience we're better suited to handle it as we get older. Try spending some time with someone who's just gotten into a relationship. If you're lucky you may get to talk to them in about six months when things cool down from be white hot to just smoldering. In a way that so-called honeymoon period is a chance to try and recapture that intensity we first felt years ago. As I mentioned, it's just not something that can be maintained and when it passes that's when we can start to see the other person with unclouded eyes. One could argue that's when the relationship really begins.
I've talked about the different kinds of friends we have in our lives. As children our standard for allowing someone to be our friend is much looser than it is when we're adults. Sure we may know a lot of people. We may have a ton of online "friends" who we know through various aspects of our lives, but how many people in your life are actual friends? I've moved around a lot in my life and I have different friends from different places in my life. As I've gotten older some of those friends are so engrained in my life that I can't really remember a time without them. Still there was a time for all of us when the people we call friend today were nothing more than strangers. I've come up with a name for a category of friend that many of us may not even think about. I call them The First People. When you move to a new town or start a new job you often don't know anyone there. The First People are the first ones that come into our lives. In a way we lower our defenses slightly to allow for new people. Think about it, when you're firmly established in a town or job how many new people do you let into your life? You may already have a group of friends so the desire to add someone else may be minimal at best. When we're alone in a new situation it's natural to look for someone to be a companion, even if that means accepting someone we may have overlooked had we been somewhere within our comfort zone. That's not meant to say that these First People are substandard in anyway. In fact it's just the opposite. These people are in our lives almost out of necessity. Because we need them we may be exposed to a different type of person than we're used to. This can be a good thing, especially since the older we get the fewer chances we may get at experiencing something new. These First People are somewhat unique because while they're late comers to our lives, they're also the first ones to be established within whatever new venture we're on.
As I mentioned at the beginning, we put great value on the first time something happens. Anniversaries are really just a yearly celebration of something's first time. It's entirely possible that many of our first experiences are when we get hardwired a certain way. So when we're young and it seems like there are firsts around every corner, we're essentially being shaped into the person we're going to become based on how those firsts turn out. If our first job is terrible then we may be inclined to think that work in general aren't going to be much fun. While it's possible for new experiences to come along and reshape our perception of how something could be, will we always be influenced by what came first? If that's the case should we strive to make each first the best or the worst so that anything that comes afterwards has a chance of living up to what came before it?
Many of us may still remember our first love. The ones between the first love and today's could be a jumbled mess of memories, but that first one will always be with us in some way. I think a good part of that is because our body and mind hadn't been exposed to that emotion up until that point. Never having experienced something like that before only makes it that much more intense. Combined with the fact that when we're young everything is already more intense. As with many things in life, that level of intensity can't be sustained for very long. Eventually it fades to more manageable levels and we'd like to think that with age and experience we're better suited to handle it as we get older. Try spending some time with someone who's just gotten into a relationship. If you're lucky you may get to talk to them in about six months when things cool down from be white hot to just smoldering. In a way that so-called honeymoon period is a chance to try and recapture that intensity we first felt years ago. As I mentioned, it's just not something that can be maintained and when it passes that's when we can start to see the other person with unclouded eyes. One could argue that's when the relationship really begins.
I've talked about the different kinds of friends we have in our lives. As children our standard for allowing someone to be our friend is much looser than it is when we're adults. Sure we may know a lot of people. We may have a ton of online "friends" who we know through various aspects of our lives, but how many people in your life are actual friends? I've moved around a lot in my life and I have different friends from different places in my life. As I've gotten older some of those friends are so engrained in my life that I can't really remember a time without them. Still there was a time for all of us when the people we call friend today were nothing more than strangers. I've come up with a name for a category of friend that many of us may not even think about. I call them The First People. When you move to a new town or start a new job you often don't know anyone there. The First People are the first ones that come into our lives. In a way we lower our defenses slightly to allow for new people. Think about it, when you're firmly established in a town or job how many new people do you let into your life? You may already have a group of friends so the desire to add someone else may be minimal at best. When we're alone in a new situation it's natural to look for someone to be a companion, even if that means accepting someone we may have overlooked had we been somewhere within our comfort zone. That's not meant to say that these First People are substandard in anyway. In fact it's just the opposite. These people are in our lives almost out of necessity. Because we need them we may be exposed to a different type of person than we're used to. This can be a good thing, especially since the older we get the fewer chances we may get at experiencing something new. These First People are somewhat unique because while they're late comers to our lives, they're also the first ones to be established within whatever new venture we're on.
As I mentioned at the beginning, we put great value on the first time something happens. Anniversaries are really just a yearly celebration of something's first time. It's entirely possible that many of our first experiences are when we get hardwired a certain way. So when we're young and it seems like there are firsts around every corner, we're essentially being shaped into the person we're going to become based on how those firsts turn out. If our first job is terrible then we may be inclined to think that work in general aren't going to be much fun. While it's possible for new experiences to come along and reshape our perception of how something could be, will we always be influenced by what came first? If that's the case should we strive to make each first the best or the worst so that anything that comes afterwards has a chance of living up to what came before it?
Friday, May 13, 2011
Sunday, May 1, 2011
On the Disconnect
There seems to be two types of disconnect going on in today's world. As I've mentioned the world has become so interconnected in some ways that it's nearly impossible for us to do anything without someone else being involved. At the same time we may find ourselves disassociated from those people around us. It's not just the people either. The whole world around has become filtered in such a way that we've willingly disconnected various aspects for the sake of others. I've mentioned how the internet is full of information. There's so much of it that we create custom views of it, filtering out everything unwanted. We all do it. We pay attention only to what interests us. I've found myself going weeks or months without really knowing what's going on the in the world around me. Sure I could tell you about the latest video game developments or which movies are coming out, but I couldn't tell you why those people in Wisconsin were so upset or the impact of the natural disasters around the world. The ability to filter information means the potential for a complete disconnect goes up as time goes on.
Several years ago I moved to a new town for a job. I had never lived there before and only knew the person who recommended me for the job. The company had this policy that after six months of work you would be eligible to work from home one to two days a week. Since the position was a lot of talking on the phone with customers, it was the kind of work that could be done from really anywhere. When I heard about it I was very excited to get to the point where I could telecommute multiple days a week. The idea is great in theory. You save on time by not having to fight traffic either on the way to or from the office. You save money on the gas you would have used on that trip. There was the added benefit that it allowed you to create a better balance between your life and job so that you wouldn't feel shackled to your desk. It also could potentially save the company money on resources by not having an employee come into the office. Those are all good reasons to have a policy and as I said, in theory it's a very good idea all around.
Somewhere along the way the employees started to push past the two days and make it three days. There were even some people who lived far enough away that they were able to negotiate working from home permanently. This meant that in a given work week you would spend more time away from the office than you would spend in it. For many people this started off as a good thing. We each have our own lives to live. We have responsibilities and interests that go beyond what we do at our jobs. In fact for a lot of us our jobs are simply a means to generate income to support our life outside of work. For me it was a chance to keep people constantly at arm's length why maintaining the appearance of being a part of something. Now by the time they started going to three days a week I had been with the company for several years and had become established in what was once a new town. Even still I found myself drifting further away from people. It became easier to let myself be isolated by essentially hiding in my apartment. Now sure I still had to go into the office two days a week, but the way it worked out on the days that I came into the office others were spending their working from home. It got to the point that weeks could go by without really seeing certain people. There are some people who would love nothing more than to be on their own. They want to do their job and be left alone. Now these people may be personable outside of work, but it's such a slippery slope that disconnecting from one thing may trigger a disconnect from something else.
Our society is very individualistic, which in a lot of ways is a good thing. It has allowed certain people to achieve greatness because they are not hindered by the group. In other ways though it has created a society of trees, but not a forest. I once had to give a friend a ride to another friend's apartment. My friend made the comment that the apartment complex looked like honeycomb in a bee hive, which was an interesting analogy since he was saying it in the fact that each of us went into our little hole and was completely isolated from everyone, even the person next to us. It's true though that we maintain these invisible barriers around us. I lived in a single apartment complex for nearly six years and I couldn't tell you the name of any of the people who lived next door. Sure I had seen them coming and going. I'd said hi, but like them, I never went any further than that. Maybe a part of it is a fear of having someone so close to home that turns out to be unfriendly. So instead it's better to keep the people as an unknown quantity. From a strictly safety perspective I guess I can see its validity, but on the immediate flip side it meant you allowed yourself to be surrounded by strangers. In an emergency could you even ask the person standing next to you for help?
Even with all that self-imposed isolation from people we still find ourselves saying we need to disconnect for a little bit. We need time to be alone with ourselves or with only the people we really care about. It's not easy always being 'on' and having to maintain our outside persona. There are times when we need to just be ourselves. The version that doesn't have to be polite or considerate because we're alone. It also allows us to break away from the constant barrage of information that it coming at us. It's usually at this point that we put those filters back up. We reevaluate what we want in our lives and in some cases make a conscious effort to limit things even further. It's strange that for many of us the duration we can go outside in the world gets shorter and shorter even though we spend so much time trying to separate ourselves from everyone else. Maybe it's a perpetuating cycle, the more time we spend disconnected the easier it becomes to stay that way. If it stays that way then won't we all just be a bunch of strangers?
Several years ago I moved to a new town for a job. I had never lived there before and only knew the person who recommended me for the job. The company had this policy that after six months of work you would be eligible to work from home one to two days a week. Since the position was a lot of talking on the phone with customers, it was the kind of work that could be done from really anywhere. When I heard about it I was very excited to get to the point where I could telecommute multiple days a week. The idea is great in theory. You save on time by not having to fight traffic either on the way to or from the office. You save money on the gas you would have used on that trip. There was the added benefit that it allowed you to create a better balance between your life and job so that you wouldn't feel shackled to your desk. It also could potentially save the company money on resources by not having an employee come into the office. Those are all good reasons to have a policy and as I said, in theory it's a very good idea all around.
Somewhere along the way the employees started to push past the two days and make it three days. There were even some people who lived far enough away that they were able to negotiate working from home permanently. This meant that in a given work week you would spend more time away from the office than you would spend in it. For many people this started off as a good thing. We each have our own lives to live. We have responsibilities and interests that go beyond what we do at our jobs. In fact for a lot of us our jobs are simply a means to generate income to support our life outside of work. For me it was a chance to keep people constantly at arm's length why maintaining the appearance of being a part of something. Now by the time they started going to three days a week I had been with the company for several years and had become established in what was once a new town. Even still I found myself drifting further away from people. It became easier to let myself be isolated by essentially hiding in my apartment. Now sure I still had to go into the office two days a week, but the way it worked out on the days that I came into the office others were spending their working from home. It got to the point that weeks could go by without really seeing certain people. There are some people who would love nothing more than to be on their own. They want to do their job and be left alone. Now these people may be personable outside of work, but it's such a slippery slope that disconnecting from one thing may trigger a disconnect from something else.
Our society is very individualistic, which in a lot of ways is a good thing. It has allowed certain people to achieve greatness because they are not hindered by the group. In other ways though it has created a society of trees, but not a forest. I once had to give a friend a ride to another friend's apartment. My friend made the comment that the apartment complex looked like honeycomb in a bee hive, which was an interesting analogy since he was saying it in the fact that each of us went into our little hole and was completely isolated from everyone, even the person next to us. It's true though that we maintain these invisible barriers around us. I lived in a single apartment complex for nearly six years and I couldn't tell you the name of any of the people who lived next door. Sure I had seen them coming and going. I'd said hi, but like them, I never went any further than that. Maybe a part of it is a fear of having someone so close to home that turns out to be unfriendly. So instead it's better to keep the people as an unknown quantity. From a strictly safety perspective I guess I can see its validity, but on the immediate flip side it meant you allowed yourself to be surrounded by strangers. In an emergency could you even ask the person standing next to you for help?
Even with all that self-imposed isolation from people we still find ourselves saying we need to disconnect for a little bit. We need time to be alone with ourselves or with only the people we really care about. It's not easy always being 'on' and having to maintain our outside persona. There are times when we need to just be ourselves. The version that doesn't have to be polite or considerate because we're alone. It also allows us to break away from the constant barrage of information that it coming at us. It's usually at this point that we put those filters back up. We reevaluate what we want in our lives and in some cases make a conscious effort to limit things even further. It's strange that for many of us the duration we can go outside in the world gets shorter and shorter even though we spend so much time trying to separate ourselves from everyone else. Maybe it's a perpetuating cycle, the more time we spend disconnected the easier it becomes to stay that way. If it stays that way then won't we all just be a bunch of strangers?
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