Sheltered in place

Yesterday, I got my first shot of the Covid vaccine, a surreal experience to say the least.

Something I quickly noticed was how many people couldn't sit (or stand) still, or rather, how few people looked up from their phones.

It was astonishing. Here was the first time in perhaps a very long time when many of these people were ever going to come close to being around an almost entirely random sample. Folks who weren't friends or family or workmates, or members of their church or club or kids sports team, but who nevertheless made up their community. Too distracted by their phones to look up, or too concerned with their own internal narrative to notice.

I realized how almost all of us are so incredibly sheltered, consumed in our little worlds from the time we wake up to when we go to bed. If we're not careful, we can spend your whole lives immune to the happenings, feelings, and circumstances of others.

Is it really any wonder there's an empathy shortage, or why we're so polarized?

It's not that opportunities to connect don't exist. It's that we're so consumed by our own thoughts and feelings and wants and needs, and the widgets, platforms, urgencies, and happenings of the day (our day), that we often don't even notice.

All that's left is our disconnect, matched with our values and unique point of view, no matter how biased or sequestered they may be.

A hefty price to pay for something so simple.