This planet has approximately 7 billion human beings inhabiting it today. So, when the Internet came of age and we started to communicate with each other on a regular basis from anywhere on earth at any given moment, it was very exciting. There were so many possibilities. And, for me, many chances to meet people from anywhere and connect.
I was 14 when AOL got really big and chatting on line became a popular way of connecting. These were the days of the revolutionary dial-up internet. One day, during the summer, the mail came and I was home to bring it inside. As I sat it on the table a bright cardboard CD case with a shiny disc inside caught my eye. Yes, it was one of those America On Line, 10,000 free hours (or were they minutes? I can't remember). I had just seen one of the commercials. We had an IBM desktop computer and I had only been using it for my homework and poetry at this point. Time to get plugged in.
I was immediately addicted to online chat rooms. I would stay up until 5 am on school nights chatting with people from all over the world. I built online relationships. I lied about my identity so many times it was incredible how many people I could become. It was intoxicating. My parents would think I was studying but in all reality I was just in one of the many different chat rooms they had back then. I was adventurous in front of that 18 inch screen. Thankfully I was never adventurous enough to follow through with meeting anyone in person that I'd been chatting with online. An interesting point from this time I should probably mention is that we lived in a smaller town in Iowa and when dial-up was the only kind of internet; you had to be in a town that had an internet tower or you had to agree to pay the long distance charges that came with the connection. Des Moines was the nearest tower. Des Moines was considered long distance back then and phone calls to Des Moines were limited as my father did not want to pay for anything that wasn't toll free. There was no toll free internet. After a month of chatting every day for about 5-6 hours per day, the phone bill came.
I can remember these several minutes like it was yesterday. I had a friend over to the house and we were hanging out outside but needed to run inside for a drink. My dad was sitting at the dining room opening the mail while my friend and I stood in the kitchen talking and giggling. My dad suddenly booms, "ANNETTE! Get up here! We have an emergency!" (my mother was in the basement doing laundry.) My father then yelled at my friend to get out. He did not normally yell at my friends and he has a deep, thunderous tone when he is angry. She ran out of the house. I sneaked upstairs while my mother came to see what was the matter. I had a feeling it had something to do with me (most emergency situations did.) Long story short, the phone bill for September of 1996 was approximately $1400.00. I probably don't have to tell you that this AOL I had snuck onto our computer without adult consent was quickly cancelled. There were other repercussions that need not be mentioned here.
I did have quite a struggle withdrawing from those late night chats and thinking about the people and if they missed me or thought something bad had happened. Soon enough I was to stay in Omaha with my aunt and uncle and baby cousin as my parents went on vacation for a month. They had the internet there and I spent most of my time in their computer room. I remember chatting with a particular guy for days and days and then one day he wasn't there. I got very emotional about this. I wept at the fact that this guy, whose real name I hadn't a clue of nor face I'd ever seen. I was heartbroken. I thought we were in love. This was a good sign I'd already developed quite a warped sense of relationships and romance that would follow me in different forms for the next 15 years. Since then technology has changed and developed so much.
That is just a short, personal story about my teenage ideals, delusions, and use of the internet. The real point is what is lacking in stories like these. What is lacking in how we communicate today and how much contact we truly have with each other? Human connection. Real connection. Facial expressions, body language, eye contact, physical touch, voice inflection, and all of the other tell-tale signs that I am actually human.
The more connected we are throughout these interwebs of social media, online forums, blogs (like this one) and email communication, the less connection we get to experience with each other. If you're trying to share something with me via text, email, or facebook message that has any real depth of importance you are robbing both of us of the experience of human connection. In whatever form it's meant to be at the time. Anger, love, anxiety, fear, joy, excitement... any number of real emotions. If I can't look at you when you tell me how afraid you are of your own mind, I can't even give you my true empathy. If you are interested in dating me and can only ask via text what my thoughts are on the idea, I won't get to experience your vulnerability which, in fact, is one of the first true gestures of love.
The more we let ourselves hide behind our screens the more we take away from our own human development. Because it's ALL beautiful. Each one of those things, when expressed out loud and in person, becomes a poetic truth that no one can alter, skew, or take away from you by trying to arrange the emphasis on the words they would choose to be emphasized rather than hearing it from your own voice and, therefore, truly understanding what you mean.
Miscommunication can happen on a face-to-face level as well, of course. But, when I look you in the eye and tell you I'm terrified of being alone, at least I know I was not withholding the truth in my own eyes, because I was looking right at you. I was showing you my fear.
There is a lot of trepidation with this true human connection. I have spent half of my life creating the cement walls around me that have just begun to crack and chip away. Emailing my best friend the truth about my thoughts and fears is much less scary then talking to her in person. But it's cheap. It's cheap and easy and the worth of my connectedness to life and other people is not to be in likeness to that of a dying whore. So this is my promise, to my Higher Power and to myself: All things worth saying are worth saying out loud and, when possible, in person.
For me, it is not very plausible to say something so extreme as "I will only say everything out loud and to your face." because I am a human living in the technological age of texting, facebook, and email. That is a fact I've accepted. But I can do my part in making sure my efforts to be present for others is truly there. When I'm with you: I'm with you. When something is important to discuss, it's discussed in the most intimate way possible. My love for people far outweighs my fear of them today. For that, I'm very grateful. As it was very possible that I could have ended up a recluse, confined to my bedroom with a bottle of vodka or a meth pipe next to me and this laptop on my stomach. Only ever seeing the outside world when it was time to work or go to the store. Each person in my life is a gift that I may only get to keep for a short while so I shall cherish the time I have with them and limit the unnecessary distractions.
While I have made a decision to really just be ME today and discover all of the things you discover about yourself while growing up, I have also made a decision to show others who I am at the same time. The truth. While it all becomes more clear with less cement and iron covering it up. Because we are incredible creatures and no matter what the truth is, continuing the practice of mindfulness and communication is what makes us stronger as a society and better in all of the ways!
So I don't get to edit today. I don't get to back track and delete and photoshop my life until it is presentable to others. The revelations unfold out loud and in color. So, that means whomever is there as it's happening gets to see it all. It's a different path but it is the one I plan to follow.
No comments:
Post a Comment