Wednesday, August 11, 2010

NEAR

I love the age in which we live --- Twitter, Facebook, Hulu, podcasts, iPads, Wireless internet, YouTube, Bluetooth, iPhones, Blackberrys, OnStar, Skype --- I can't wait to see what's next on the technological horizon.

But there is a paradoxical effect of mobile technology on culture. While it has the remarkable ability to bring those far away closer, it also has the capacity to make those near feel more distant.

Witness good friends -- homemakers -- living mere blocks apart. They talk every day on the phone ... sometimes several times a day. Yet, partly because of their proximity, they rarely actually see each other. It's been two months since they've had time to physically get together, yet they chat via AT&T every day.

I was at lunch with a friend awhile back and right in the middle of the lunch he answered his bluetooth. I didn't realize his phone had rung -- I was still talking to him in between chews -- but before I knew it, he was talking to whoever on the other end of his ear. In that moment, he was transported electronically, leaving me to dine on my tuna melt by myself. At least I got to hear half a conversation --- and I enjoyed watching him laugh at a joke that was evidently extremely funny.

The near becomes far, and the far are brought near.

We deeply desire connection and community in our increasingly nomadic existence, yet we wander around our personal worlds, glancing off other digital nomads without ever knowing or being known. It is a condition we create with the smallest decisions. But it is just as easily undone.

I was sitting with a different friend at lunch on a different day. His cell phone rang, I stopped talking and said: 'You can get that if you need to.' Without blinking or even looking at his phone, he said: 'You took the time to get together with me. Whoever is calling right now didn't. Now, what were you saying?' He just chose to be present where his body was.

Not that long ago I sat with another friend at lunch - yeah, I do a lot of lunches - he had a spouse who was threatening to leave him. We cried together and I offered a glass of water and put my arm around him. Eventually he talked and I listened. He had a lot to say; I had nothing.

In the middle of this darkness, I did not feel hopeless. If anything, I felt a renewed sense of commitment to help however I could. That response is hardly a reflection on what a good guy I am. It simply shows that I'm human. It is quite possible that the needs in some far-off place were a lot greater than my friend's needs sitting across the table from me. But I wasn't at some far-off place. I was there.

And here YOU are. There are needs galore in your own backyard. We do what we can, where we are at the moment, and watch the world change life by life.

And be blessed.

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