Presence & Loneliness

One thing I noticed immediately upon our return to civilization is how addicted we, as a society, are to our cell phones. I loved the ability to disconnect and not even know where my phone was for hours (days!?) during our sailing trip. I felt more present, more connected, and better attuned to my environment and others. I didn't need the immediacy (or dopamine hit?) of reading emails upon their arrival, witnessing others' posts, texting 24-7, or the counterfeit connections that social media brings about. I felt connected to my place, time, and tribe.

As soon as we docked and started making our way home, I noticed how often others pulled out their phones, awkward silences filled by checking - or worse - scrolling, and general social reliance. Even as we transitioned back to less remote locations on the boat and especially when we pulled into port, I found that the adults (including me!) were immediately consumed with reconciling everything we missed - we were awkwardly standing on the deck, scanning and scrolling. Only to realize 15 minutes had passed and have the kids asking about lunch or showers or a walk-about.

Despite the micro-experiences on the boat, being back on land was a completely different magnitude. I noticed a modern loneliness amidst hyper-connectivity; I would be sitting or standing immediately next to someone or out at dinner, but not many were really present. They were checking, scrolling, texting, and doing... who knows what! There were glances, checks, and general concern for what was happening on the phone all while trying to engage around the table.

At times, this led into an odd internal, personal debate: why don't I want to scroll? Do I not have enough going on? Am I missing out? Will I be so out of touch with modern society that I won't have anything to talk about / identify with others on? Intuitively, I didn't care about the answers to any of these questions. I wanted to remain a bit disconnected and resistant to the phone in the presence of others. I didn't see a reason to rush back into hyper connectivity or split attention. I liked the version of myself that was present - a better listener, a more thoughtful and observant friend, and one seeking deeper connection. I liked the lack of transactional connection.

Yet, there was a bit of a paradox - I still used social media to document my favorite memories (yes, a highlight reel) - I've always posted updates so that I didn't have to text the same thing to so many people and so that I had more firm documentation of memories and experiences that were valuable and positive for me. ...But was this a personal form a social disconnection? Why was I so against texting the same thing to multiple people? Why was I so opposed to calling people to update them instead? In the extreme, was I contributing to the commoditization of personal experiences?

I'm not yet sure what the answers are nor what the right balance is. I know I value shared experiences (often in the mountains or, for better or worse, type 2 fun) as well as deep, exploratory conversations; all of which require each individual to be fully present. I find the most connection in hard, vulnerable places. I recognize that's not always possible and not always what others desire. Further, is there a place for social media amidst these experiences and the knowledge seeking?