Shouting into the void

if an essay drops onto the internet, does it impact anyone or anything?

Why do I write?

hmm… I’ve been claiming it’s primarily for me. It’s about trying to make sense out of confusion. If that’s the case, why do I write in a place where others can find it, can comment? What are my hopes and expectations?

I know one thing; I’m moved to write sometimes. I lead a life that is far removed from the one I knew as a professional. I like to say I was once a big fish in a small pond. To be sure, I interacted with more or less intensity with a lot of people over a sustained amount of time. There was ample opportunity to address many issues formally and informally in that space and time. Now, most of my waking moments are spent alone. Certain topics are better left un-addressed in my home. Agreeing to disagree isn’t an easy or natural thing; it takes practice and a willingness to really try and understand the “why” of differing opinions. I am, and maybe we all are, prone to listen to voices that underwrite our own opinions.

The fact is, however, always flocking with the same species can confine us to an echo chamber. In order to grow and evolve, it’s useful and necessary to hear and consider other perspectives, in a space where the tendency to take sides is least likely to interfere with careful consideration.

Where do we learn to listen? And, if we’re listening, how do we project that we ARE actually listening, rather than simply waiting for the slightest instant in which to interject our own opinion or rebuttal? Real listening takes practice. I think I may not be all that good at it. There’s no doubt that I’m substantially impressed with my own opinion about things. I’m a bit adventurous, I think, with opinions. I don’t like to think of myself as dogmatic, hopefully I am not seen that way. I’m certainly well persuaded, even when I go off on a tangent, exploring the logical or even illogical conclusion of a line of reasoning. I do like hearing others do the same; directly questioning the majority opinion, the status quo, but also with an attempt to build the alternative thesis upon plausable reasoning.

The thing is, my listening is infrequently in a place where I can engage in meaningful feedback. It’s why I like this blogosphere, particularly with authors who refuse to place the opportunity for feedback behind a paywall. The fact that I do read their work and take the time to offer feedback is a form of endorsement of their effort, whether or not I agree wholey with their content. I am selective in paying for a subscription. I don’t pay for acceptable ideology, or clever turn of phrase. I pay for sustained effort and evidence of real work in constructing, refining, editing and presenting ideas with the respect they deserve. Poor grammer and typos make me feel like those things don’t matter to the writer. It’s also why I have increasingly simply deleted any post that is an advertisement for live content. If I were looking for conversational posts, I’d restrict my subscription to podcasts. Still; the interchange between individuals is valuable to me, particularly if I’m one of them. A written conversation is a unique and special thing. It’s like someone’s personal history with a friend, recorded in letters over sustained periods of time. Each party responds to the other, but with enough forethought that retractions are seldom necessary.

I have breakfast with a group of guys every Wednesday morning, almost without fail. They all started out as mere acquintances, if that. A year later, it has become one of the events I look forward to most each week. I count each of them as friends. I just LOVE learning more about their lives, their activities, their hopes and dreams and their opinions on whatever topic we find ourselves discussing. In that activity, I have found a new “tribe”, albiet not as intensely as a 70 hour work week would offer. I have other small “tribes” in the places I volunteer. If I didn’t appreciate the folks who gather, I probably wouldn’t continue those activities, however noble they might be.

Those associtions don’t fully satisfy my desire to write, or to cultivate a few deeper, sustained relationships over habits like fancy coffee drinks.

I’m pretty convinced that the way forward to a world where we live amongst one another is through multilateral conversations, hearing and developing an understanding for the many stories that make up our society. I always find more to bind us together than to tear us apart, when sharing thoughts on a one-to-one basis, or in other conversational formats.

So, what about this format, where I jot down my stream of consciousness on a particular subject and then launch it into the great expanse of the digital universe, including a smaller subset of that group who have chosen to be on a “subscription list”? I can assure you I haven’t enrolled anyone to that list, although I have taken to including my posts on two platforms (Facebook and LinkedIn) where I participate in larger groups of people known to me from the non-virtual world. Some are dear friends and family, others simply people I appreciate from various associations across the years.

Those of you who are on a subscribers list are people I especially appreciate, even if we are linked only by virtual connections. I like to think you’d unsubscribe if you didn’t find here something worthy of your attention. If I could fulfill a single wish, it would be that you honor yourselves sufficiently to send back your opinion, your thoughts, any proof of life at your end of the stream of electrons. One potential advantage of this explosion of the “virtual” world is that it can connect people who are far away in space and time, bring them “face to face” through the miracle of the virtual world. You can reach me instantly from the opposite side of the world. How amazing is that?

How can we have real conversations, not just echo chambers? How can we shape one another’s opinions and views of the world, for the better? Do we care enough to make our voices heard, even in “small” places? If I review my own periodic essays across time, I’m surprised at how much underlying “longing” for being in community I find. I wonder if others have a similar desire for connectedness, even if physical circumstances prevent a vibrant social life?

There’s one more topic rattling around in my head lately, but I think two missives are plenty for a single day. That one can mature a bit inside the coconut before finding it’s way into prose.