Look At The Pictures
I know a guy…
With the ability to be the life of a party.
Not in some Jim Carrey, relentlessly in-your-face way. More like a switch he can flip. Whenever ice needs to be broken, he gets people laughing. If conversations at a group dinner turn stale…he knows how to get the table grooving again. Nothing fake. He’s just kind of built for those moments. With an outgoing personality and a seemingly endless collection of stories…it flows out of him easily. And he certainly never minded a spotlight.
But most of us change with age.
Over the years, his need for attention decreased. He could still get the good times rolling in group settings…but started to step back once the festivities were in full swing.
He seemed to observe the room more.
With softer eyes.
And then, one year, he saw something new…
Sure, he was still the court jester whenever groups came together. Doing his familiar song-and-dance at the start. But he noticed that socializing (the very thing that gave so much joy) was actually a stressful experience for some. He started seeing it clearly. At every medium-sized to large gathering…there was one person who appeared almost invisible. Sometimes young. Sometimes old. But always kind of hiding in plain sight. He realized that by being so wrapped up in the fun…he’d always looked right past that person with the sad eyes.
It bothered him. And now he couldn’t stop seeing it. No matter the occasion, there always seemed to be a person sitting alone to the side. He found himself gravitating to that person whenever groups came together. He certainly didn’t want to be a nuisance. But he couldn’t help but observe the loneliness in those eyes. And he was blessed with the gift of gab, after all. Maybe he could just say hello in case of any interest in a conversation.
He started to make a habit of that.
You never know what might brighten someone’s day, he learned.
People don’t always need a song and dance.
Sometimes they just need to be seen.
—–
I know a guy…
Who finally learned how to unplug.
This whole world of technology caught him by surprise. He’d grown up playing in the streets. As a kid from another era…he spent his formative years riding bikes, examining insects, and shooting hoops. Technology? Please. He didn’t even wear a watch. The only way he realized it was time to go home was by seeing the sun disappear.
But the world moves fast.
As an adult, he grew more and more dependent on devices. Like everyone. Now, his iPhone was lighting up 20 times each hour. And, much like a trained seal, he’d reach for it without thinking. Was every alert really that urgent? Couldn’t he occasionally ignore the buzzing?
It was getting ridiculous. Ok, he asked himself…who’s in control here?
(A) Man
or
(B) Machine
(Hint: the correct answer was not A)
Society moved full steam ahead. Everyone was fully plugged in now. So was he. Netflix and streaming apps for entertainment (because TV alone wasn’t enough)…podcasts when his eyes left a screen…and a phone always within inches of his grasp. By now, he was even checking his calendar app a dozen times per day. But why? Had anything changed since his last glance 10 minutes ago?
He started wondering:
Is this advancement or obsession?
How many times did he need to check out the price of Bitcoin?
How many opinions did he need to read about every world event?
How much information did he need to absorb from these devices?
…how much was enough?
Being plugged in wasn’t necessarily a recipe for happiness. He found himself more annoyed in general. By the endless news updates. By all the ongoing commentary online from countless strangers. He even got bothered by the way people typed “LOL” randomly into sentences. He didn’t even know them. Why was he so easily irritated?
He started to question himself. Maybe there was a such thing as being too plugged in. Was it really necessary to stay engaged with “the world” each day? It was a thought that had been marinating for years.
He ignored it.
And then, one year, he finally learned how to unplug.
Sure, he still needed to spend big chunks of time with technology. There was no way around it. But he started disconnecting more often. He went for walks alone. Leaving his phone at home felt strange at first. No screens, no music, and nothing to entertain him. Not a single post to read. Just him and his thoughts.
He remembered how to turn down the noise.
And it was a breath of fresh air.
—–
I know a guy…
Who tried on a new pair of shoes.
Since childhood, the truth was clear. He was afraid. The ever-present anxiety sat there like a boulder in the pit of his stomach. All the thoughts played on a loop. Would things work out? Was he enough? Was he worthy of love?
He disguised his self-doubt well.
People looked in his direction and saw a brave, confident dude.
But, despite what the world saw, he spent his life in fear. It was his most comfortable pair of shoes, so to speak. Only the tiniest piece of his soul wanted to yell, “I’M TIRED OF THESE DAMN SHOES!” But all that ever came out was a faint whisper. And it was quickly drowned out by the much louder fears.
He noticed that there were plenty of people who were able to leap without a net. Carefree humans in every direction. Didn’t they know they were supposed to worry? How on earth could they live in such a way?
But, secretly, he wanted to experience that kind of freedom too.
He just couldn’t abandon his most comfortable shoes.
Year after year, it frustrated him.
And then, one year…finally…he took a chance.
He was tired of being scared.
So he tried on a new pair of shoes.
And they carried him to new and wonderful adventures.
—–
You probably figured it out by now, but “the guy I know” in the stories above is me.
“And then one year” comes from my imagination of how 2022 might look.
We humans see things in pictures, right? Our oldest memories live as home videos in our heads. So, as we reach the end of this year, maybe it’s good for us to look at some of those pictures. Of where we’ve been. As well as the images of where we might like to go.
I hope you had a safe and healthy 2021. Obviously, this has been a challenging couple of years for us all. I genuinely wish you the very best in 2022. You deserve it. Hell, I think we all do.
See you in January.
MileNerd out.
