"It is remarkable, that persons who speculate most boldly often conform with perfect quietude to the external regulations of society." -- Nathaniel Hawthorne, THE SCARLET LETTER
I remember a friend who could not cut off his cell phone when we went out, always worried he'd "miss something," unable to focus on the experience of the moment, always with one foot poised to dash to the next social interaction. His excuse was he was just part of his ADD Generation.
We all live, however, in a culture of ADD. I find myself not focusing on one task or experience but multiple tasks & possible future-tense experiences. While I have argued with my husband that this may be an inherently female trait, (to wit he accuses me humorously of post-feminist sexism) at this moment in Our Society Today the ability to multi-task has become a human trait, one needed to survive the pace of both our work and play.
I may teach online, blog, and check news, weather, & email on my Blackberry; I may have married into XM, OnStar, and the I-phone; I may have discovered the difference between Blu-ray & HD DVDs, what LiveJournal is and where to find slash, what a WIKI is, where LOTR players meet, and the joys of MP3s, but I am breathless at the moment.
Henry David Thoreau wrote, "As a single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives."
With all the shiny objects and glib n' ironic conversations surrounding me, with the demands placed upon being plugged in 24/7, I find it difficult to walk one path or keep a sustained thought. I feel like I am only treading water on the surface of a postmodern sea.
I leave you Dear Reader with this below video, and the question of whether or not this pace is progress or a downward spiral. Just don't view this while drinking coffee like I did! Heart palpitations may ensue!
Certainly that may be the fun in blogging. In fact the Internet is a weird mixture of exhibitionism and anonymity.
I have been thinking about levels of intimacy lately. Like the Internet I am a weird Myers-Briggs case. I may appear to those who meet me in town, know me at work, or are second or third-tier friends as an Extroverted sort. I have, however, a shadow Introvert who few see.
My Extrovert came out to play yesterday at the garage when I realized that the mechanic and I had both just attended the same funerall. I'm just chatting him up about his loss in a Mayberry Way while my sensible husband is having a Larry-Davidesque (as he later described it) reaction over this mixture of business and social.
I told him later over subs that encounters like that are why I love living in a small town. I have moved my entire life, and now I enjoy the social dance of at least pretending that my life is more entangled than it really is with the bank teller who goes to the Methodist church or the bag boy who is a former student.
I don't really think these people are going to invite me into their homes. This is The South. I was born in the region but not raised in this town, and I work at The College and so does my husband. They do not know my Momma nor my Husband's Daddy. I'm not a Carpet Bagger because of my accent, but I am a Forever Foreigner.
But despite my love of starting conversations with the woman who takes my payment at Georgia Power, in reality I have a strong introverted streak that few recognize or understand when they see glimpses.
I have good social camouflage, and I think this liminal distribution between extrovert and introvert makes me a bit Deanna Troi-like (save the Spandex and lip-liner).
Being an empathy sponge at work and in relationships can, however, make me sometimes too soaked.
Lately with work challenges, my best friend living 64 miles away (which I know is great in academia but still), and the ever-shifting sands of socializing, especially as a newly-married, I find I am detaching and observing the interactions of others. Despite my Troi-ness and my extroverted-ness, there is sometimes a significant disconnect between what I am comfortable in doing or sharing from what another friend may share with me (and anyone else within earshot). Other times I imagine a much closer relationship then I realize the other person is just waiting for his or her turn to speak.
My BFF once said there should be grad-school-to-work programs. So much time in The Academic Bubble World often makes it difficult for people to cope in the so-called Real World. Add to the complication that I work in Academia and the social expectations and interactions have shades of grad school intensity and that even when I am aware of this I too fall into those intense expectations of others.
Can we really ever know another person? OK before I get all Sartre-y on you Dear Reader, I think we can come close with a spouse, best friend, parent, or sibling. Perhaps it's commitment, DNA, past shared experiences; no Single-serving Friends are needed. Real intimacy is part time and part trust.
And to get this, I must know you and you must know me. So I leave you with a strange phenomenon, what sparked this post. Post Secret: http://postsecret.blogspot.com/
Fascinating, but is even a portion of these anonymous confessions real, and even if they are all real, isn't it just a double helix of voyeurism and exhibitionism? This site, like much of what I have recently observed and myself done, perhaps these are all parts of the Post-Postmodern world of surface where most do not hear you; they are just waiting for their turn to talk.
I voted (again) today. December 2, less than a month since November 4, with The Election Shiny worn off The Process for many, Georgia had run-off elections. But I'm not here to proselytize a particular candidate or party.
I'm here to praise the experience.
I love voting. I love going to the polls and seeing the senior citizens and college students working the polls, checking off names, filling out forms, handing out yellow plastic cards for the voting booths. I love seeing old retired black men who may still remember when voting was a dangerous privilege, and young pregnant white girls who may be wondering about their futures and those of their children, and even, yes, rich society golfer types who may be worrying about tax hikes and plunging stocks, all standing in line, all standing in a unified act of great faith.
