You can't leave your realities behind just by driving or flying away. Phones and emails follow you, delivering the news. And, if you love somebody, its normal to want to stay in touch, to hear about all the little daily and weekly details that make up our lives, and help us stay connected. Tonight, by phone, I found out something that will make my littlest child, Julia, newly sad -- her best friend is moving away, to Seattle.
Julia has other friends, and she is generally a happy child, so I know she'll be fine. But it also feels like we've just been dealing with how much she misses my former partner; and lately, I've also been losing my temper a lot with the kids, though less Julia than the boys. Every time I do, I feel bad and I apologize, but the damage has been done. All single parents know what I am talking about.
Finding out this lttle bit of sad news today reminded me that my definition of love and connection and deep friendship includes wanting, needing to know what is going on with your loved one, so you can provide some support or share some joy.
It's not enough to say you want to stay connected but never do anything about it. That's called by another word -- withdrawal.
One main reason for this blog is to discuss an epidemic that is sweeping our society -- a disease with no name but symptoms that include isolation, alienation, loneliness, a nihlisitic focus on the self as opposed to larger social units and communities.
The post-modern world is one of disconnectedness. Some of us will thrive in this new world. Some of us will perish, if not at once in the physical sense, certainly in the spiritual sense. I don't see this as Darwinian. Everything that is happening in the digital sphere, including many things (like blogging) I so obviously love, needs to be closely examined for its corresponding negative impacts.
The web helped facilitate the raising of an unprecendented level of aid from people in the wake of Katrina. But the people who need that aid the most are still without decent places to live, the means to better themselves, let alone an Internet connection. The people I identify with in this era are those left behind. As much as I may love the possibilities of the digital age for forging new connections, I mourn the loss of ancient meanings for the words love and friendship.
Friends don't let friends suffer in pain. Neighbors don't let neighbors go hungry. Families don't break up. Lovers don't stop caring, and they take pains to make sure their special others know that they still care.
Each of us only has a certain reserve of inner resource to make it through life. Once depleted, we begin to fail. Loss and change are natural; purposeful disconnection and self-censorship are not. The disease or isolation grows one by one. It is not necessarily something you do to yourself, although that can sometimes be true. Someone can isolate you just by turning away, and leaving you to fend for yourself.
You might say it's the American way, on this "Independence Day."
Take care of yourself...
1 comment:
You said "The people I identify with in this era are those left behind." I've known you for 35 years -- you have always identified with those left behind. One of the many differences between you and most of your colleagues from journalism is that once their names were in bright lights they related with disdain to people whose names were not. This is what differentiates you from that which you lament: "isolation, alienation, loneliness, a nihlisitic focus on the self as opposed to larger social units and communities." Furthermore, through this blog's writing you are providing community by sharing what many of us feel but can't articulate.
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