Mixed messages.
The importance of communities in a decentralised society.
Jump into my weekly Journal, where I explore my relationship with an ever changing world! Subscriptions help me keep Jeremy’s Journal alive, if you’d like to contribute, click here.
I’m not a very good reacher outer. I absolutely adore my friends and family, but I can be quite bad about messaging a friend to hear about their week or phoning my granny to spend some time with her. I love it when a friend calls me, naturally. I can’t wait to spend an hour or more shooting the breeze, catching up on life, or facing a difficult problem together. Unfortunately, I very seldom initiate those conversations: a dear friend of about a decade has been texting me first for the last six months or so. The consequence, of course, is that my friend steadily grows tired of always being the one to reach out and I receive fewer texts. Very slowly, I lose contact with him, and our connection gets a little rusty. It isn’t threatening at first, maybe I lose track of his most recent weekend away or I’m not there to hear about his difficult week at work. But I don’t want to allow our friendship to fade to the point where I don’t know about big changes in his life. Luckily, with old relationships like this one, if I come to my senses and reach out, our relationship is quickly renewed. I want to put in the work, I want the relationship - so why is it so hard send a four word message? Hey! How are you?
I think social media scratches the same itch as my need to socialise. Even if I want to get lunch with a friend, it’s much easier to sit in bed and scroll through whatever platform I choose for half an hour (usually much longer). Even listening to a voice note longer than 30 seconds feels like too much effort some days. I fill my hunger for real, tangible, human interaction with the hollow calories of YouTube Shorts or Instagram Stories. Of course I do! It’s convenient, it’s mindless, and I can trick myself into feeling like I’ve had a social interaction. For a moment my social hunger is satiated, and I go back to whatever I was doing, feeling no guilt or loss at all. However, I think that consistently opting for the quick solution is making me even hungrier for impactful relationships in the long run. When I begin indulging too deeply in whatever media I’ve gotten my hands on without making enough time to nourish my relationships, I get an icky feeling in the pit of my stomach and my mental health starts to destabilise. The truth is, I need people. Not just people in general, not strangers in a video, I need to engage in active relationships with people I know and trust. I actually need a community.
Our communities used to be built around place, the people you lived with and around formed your community. Everyone in your village knew you by name, they knew your trade, they supported you when you needed it, and expected the same in return. In a contemporary world, though, where most of us live in dense, urbanised areas, it’s easy to be anonymous. We seem to prefer it. When I leave my home, I choose to shut out the people around me: I wear my earphones on the train, I don’t look at people in the eye when I walk past them, I don’t chat to my neighbours (save for the odd, “hello,” when politeness dictates it). We so adamantly avoid interaction that waving to someone on the sidewalk seems completely insane! Suddenly you’re a basket case for being friendly in your own neighbourhood.
Perhaps for the first time in history, it is easier to isolate yourself than it is to be a part of a community. I don’t ever have to leave my house if I don’t want to: I can work remotely, find entertainment online, have my groceries and clothing delivered. With the convenience the internet brings, it’s easy to believe that there isn’t a need for community; to be known and seen by others quickly becomes an inconvenience by comparison. It’s so much work.
I am in the incredibly fortunate position of having friends who live all over the world, and while those relationships bring unquestionable joy and colour to my life, they are also more work to maintain. When you live 10,000 kilometres apart, the chances of running into each other at the shops are quite slim. Of course, not all of my relationships are international, but I am isolated enough that I can’t walk to any of my loved one’s homes. All of the previous structure and benefits of a location-based community have dissolved, but my fundamental need for community hasn’t. If I want to feed my social hunger in a meaningful way, I have to figure out how to fulfil my need for a community in a contemporary world where my loved ones are decentralised.
Last week, after a friend of mine recognised that I needed someone to lean on, he and I had a coffee. Having a vulnerable conversation reminded me of the power, and maybe necessity, of community. I actually needed to spend time with someone who recognised that I had a need and then made space for me. I knew that I was welcome to complain, ask for advice or sit in silence. I know I can call him if I need help, and he knows I will gladly return the favour. Whether virtually or in person, a two way relationship is vital to building and maintaining trust. A few generations ago, trust was naturally built through daily interactions with the other members of your community. You depended on the members of your society for your bread or shoes or work. In his childhood, my grandpa knew the man who owned the corner shop - his name was Mr Bawa. If my grandpa was a penny or two short, Mr Bawa trusted that he would bring the money next time he visited. In contrast, I think I know the first name of two of my nine or so neighbours, never mind the name of the owner of my nearest coffee shop.
I want to be a part of a healthy, active community. I don’t accidentally bump into my loved ones every day. I need to put the work in, I need to learn to text and call (or maybe even email) so that I regularly build trust. When disaster strikes or dreams come true, I want my community to know that I’ll be there.
Writing this week’s post was like pulling teeth! A lot of hard work, but I love digging in the mud in the hopes of finding gold. I am really proud of the final product. If you enjoyed reading this post, please share it so we can grow this little community.