I miss your voice…
I’m soon to be 67 yrs old. I’m an older person and young at heart — open to all possibilities the world brings us to live our best life.
Still working a day job (remote office work) I interact with people of all ages through what has become our norm; Chat, Email, Text. There are many days when I haven’t had a live conversation with anyone.
I hear the comments; “I’d rather text than talk”, yet, I’m having difficulty getting my arms wrapped around these sentiments.
Sometimes, because I have difficulty articulating my thoughts when I’m overtired, I’m grateful I have an option to write it out, trading one word with another, editing until I have the message clearly written.
Conversations takes effort — but isn’t it worth it? We feed off of each other’s energy. Of course, it depends on who you’re talking to; I’m reenergized, and sometimes, emotionally drained.
When I grew up the T.V. didn’t have a remote, so, you had to endure the annoying commercials until someone got up from the couch and changed the channel. We weren’t seduced into constant interruptions making worse, of our anxieties or sullenness.
I struggle with social media; do I participate or do I not? I did for a while but realized it only zapped my energy.
The pros and cons are obvious and many have written about it. I’m still hesitant. Now and then, I’ll make an attempt, but then I’ll scurry away as fast as I can.
As a writer/artist (with a day job), I’m constantly being told — only with social media will you be able to sell your art & writing work. I understand the logic; every product and entrepreneur is raising their hand waiting for the teacher to pick them for the answer. Every sound bite, image, etc is pushing for our attention. And to get it, they have to sell more than the product.
I heard an older artist at an art show say she had no extra energy to sell herself and artwork on social media, instead she told her family to sell it at her funeral. A morbid solution, but truly, I understand it.
I grew up in an era where there were boundaries between who you were as a person and your work. They were separate. I use to perform and when I walked out on the stage it was about the performance, not me. My private life was — private, only to be shared by those I trusted.
In some ways boundaries are getting more difficult to differentiate.
About 10 years ago at a cafe in Maine, for a moment, I thought I was in Seattle. It had the same hip ambiance and the same old bricks. Walking into a chain store I’m aware of having the same exact experience as someone thousands of miles away.
But now, I’m digressing, the point of this essay is to let you know — I miss your voice.
I miss hearing how you’re doing, even if you don’t have the words. Is your voice vibrant, are you happy? Or, are you going through a difficult time and your voice is soft and tender. Hearing your voice helps me gauge how to respond authentically, and be a better friend.
It’s too easy to hide behind written words and control how you’re really feeling, keeping everyone at a distance. Yet, at times, controlling the message is the only thing we have to keep a stable existence that’s part of a world changing uncontrollably every 15 minutes.
So, to those of you who prefer “texting to talking”, I get it, I truly do, but still, I want you to know, I miss hearing your voice.
