I Think I'll Start A New Life
Technology today is all about convenience at our fingertips. Literally. Inventions like HP's Touchsmart PC and Apple's iPhone make it so that human energy can surge through a finger and into a machine. This sense of power, all facilitated by human touch, is phenomenal. Human touch is scientifically proven to be a powerful force: it improves mental and physical health, lengthens your life, and even boosts your career performance. But as someone with minor personal space issues, I'm more interested in emotional touch...keeping in touch.
Unfortunately, the most sure-fire way to keep in touch is well, not to be far apart. Seemingly paradoxical considering you usually aim to keep in touch with those who are not easily accessible to you. You don't exactly need to make an effort to keep in touch with someone you can reach out and touch.
But why is it that even with these tools at our fingertips (Average time required to post on a Facebook Wall: 1 minute give or take 20 seconds to account for variance in typing speed) we find it so difficult to keep in touch? We as in...I.
Setting aside logistical issues like syncing schedules, it starts with my feeling so completely consumed by whatever I am experiencing that I don't fancy giving a play-by-play to those who are completely detached. Then there's also the fact that nothing in my life is newsworthy for an uninvolved entity to be burdened. And then, there's how much it hurts to listen to an old friend regale me with the goings-on in his or her life when all I can do is think about how I wish I were there too. Wish that we were experiencing together, like the old times. Not informing each other what happened but...looking back on what happened, together. Both fully in the know.
I don't forget though. Not hearing from me isn't a manifestation of my having shed all remnants of our past together. It's all about the coordination.
I'm not saying that I want all friends, past and present, to extricate themselves from civilization once they are no longer in my immediate presence. Of course I want old friends to be having the times of their lives no matter where they are, whether I'm present or not. I understand that we all have to move on. But that's the thing. Moving on always seems to constitute the losing of touch.
It is just so difficult. To spend quality time with a person every single day for weeks, months, years, and then one fine day, to be cut loose. To be forced to move on. To see someone else move on. And to wonder if it is appropriate to revel in your new life. Obviously, a split is not always controllable. Some passages require a physical move. Ending high school. Ending college. Job transfers. And in these cases, there's nothing inherently "awkward" about keeping in touch. Especially at the beginning. But as we get more and more wrapped up in the new life it just becomes harder and harder to go back.
I'm not sure about many things in my life. But I am sure that there is no way to resolve the keeping-in-touch conundrum.We are constantly changing. Is the possibility of picking up where we left off always a possibility? If you ask me, it takes ample time to get back in the rhythm. In this time, you suddenly find yourself losing touch with someone else.
Evolutionary psychology hails the crude fact that humans have a limited number of "friend" slots. Individuals are constantly being cycled through. A fact that is anything but touching.
I used to be consoled by the fact that my father has managed to remain friends with almost all of his closest friends from college. A college more than 9,000 miles away from our current home. But here's the thing. All of his friends coincidentally moved to the same area post college. Close proximity inspires emotional closeness. So he just had a lucky touch.
One day, somehow, someone will disprove the frustratingly scientific "out of sight out of mind." Keeping in touch will be as easy as pressing that Facebook App icon on your iPhone. And that'll be humanity's ultimate touchdown.
Unfortunately, the most sure-fire way to keep in touch is well, not to be far apart. Seemingly paradoxical considering you usually aim to keep in touch with those who are not easily accessible to you. You don't exactly need to make an effort to keep in touch with someone you can reach out and touch.
But why is it that even with these tools at our fingertips (Average time required to post on a Facebook Wall: 1 minute give or take 20 seconds to account for variance in typing speed) we find it so difficult to keep in touch? We as in...I.
Setting aside logistical issues like syncing schedules, it starts with my feeling so completely consumed by whatever I am experiencing that I don't fancy giving a play-by-play to those who are completely detached. Then there's also the fact that nothing in my life is newsworthy for an uninvolved entity to be burdened. And then, there's how much it hurts to listen to an old friend regale me with the goings-on in his or her life when all I can do is think about how I wish I were there too. Wish that we were experiencing together, like the old times. Not informing each other what happened but...looking back on what happened, together. Both fully in the know.
I don't forget though. Not hearing from me isn't a manifestation of my having shed all remnants of our past together. It's all about the coordination.
I'm not saying that I want all friends, past and present, to extricate themselves from civilization once they are no longer in my immediate presence. Of course I want old friends to be having the times of their lives no matter where they are, whether I'm present or not. I understand that we all have to move on. But that's the thing. Moving on always seems to constitute the losing of touch.
It is just so difficult. To spend quality time with a person every single day for weeks, months, years, and then one fine day, to be cut loose. To be forced to move on. To see someone else move on. And to wonder if it is appropriate to revel in your new life. Obviously, a split is not always controllable. Some passages require a physical move. Ending high school. Ending college. Job transfers. And in these cases, there's nothing inherently "awkward" about keeping in touch. Especially at the beginning. But as we get more and more wrapped up in the new life it just becomes harder and harder to go back.
I'm not sure about many things in my life. But I am sure that there is no way to resolve the keeping-in-touch conundrum.We are constantly changing. Is the possibility of picking up where we left off always a possibility? If you ask me, it takes ample time to get back in the rhythm. In this time, you suddenly find yourself losing touch with someone else.
Evolutionary psychology hails the crude fact that humans have a limited number of "friend" slots. Individuals are constantly being cycled through. A fact that is anything but touching.
I used to be consoled by the fact that my father has managed to remain friends with almost all of his closest friends from college. A college more than 9,000 miles away from our current home. But here's the thing. All of his friends coincidentally moved to the same area post college. Close proximity inspires emotional closeness. So he just had a lucky touch.
One day, somehow, someone will disprove the frustratingly scientific "out of sight out of mind." Keeping in touch will be as easy as pressing that Facebook App icon on your iPhone. And that'll be humanity's ultimate touchdown.
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