the streets of london
There are several reasons why I put metaphorical pen to paper: I genuinely want to learn more and the only way I really take things in is to read, research and then regurgitate in written form; Once understanding more I do usually take a position and then, somewhat arrogantly, feel the urge to tell everyone about it; Often I have too much time on my hands and need to pass a couple of hours, so why not. I wouldn’t quite go as far as describing this as being lonely and bored of my own company, but could appreciate it if others did.
Within modern society, we are informed that loneliness is quite becoming the norm and accounts for many of our ailments from heart disease to depression and insomnia to anorexia. The bad news is that loneliness is a better indicator of an early bath, so to speak, than obesity. The good news is that it is something we are psychologically programmed to deal with it. Loneliness triggers something deep within our biological warning system, alerting us to a potentially dangerous level of social isolation: you’re far more likely to end up as the sabre-tooth tiger’s dinner if you’re constantly on your jack-jones.
If you had a pain in chest, you’d go see a doctor, so thinking of loneliness as a pain in the proverbial means you’re on the right track. Greet a pang of loneliness like an old friend and get off your butt to go make some new ones. If me telling you to reconnect with people sounds like blame and advice in equal measure, it’s probably because it is. Loneliness, like boredom, being ‘down’ and a feeling a tad melancholic (which I perversely enjoy now and again) is a natural reaction to a bad situation or unfortunate series of events. It’s a symptom of the problem, perhaps one of our own making, and that problem is often within our capacity to change.
But it’s not as easy as it used to be as no-one talks to each other anymore. With everyone so constantly connected to their devices and social media feeds I find it increasingly difficult to start a conversation. I’m competing with something so compelling, so engrossing & rewarding that, in the words of Mike Myers “I am not worthy”. The irony is that I’m sure, deep down, people are happier when they talk to strangers, provided they don’t have to make the first move. Oh, and provided your target’s not four years old and you’ve got a bag of gumdrops in your grubby mitt.
Author, Kio Stark, believes this is because we’re not good at predicting what will actually make us happy and, similarly, we automatically assume we’re not able to make others happy. In theory at least, we don’t know what we will enjoy and we apply this rule to everyone. Consequently, the railway carriage remains silent, supermarket shoppers queue unmoved, bar-stool warriors sit & sip implacable. However, in practice, we love it, we get a kick out of talking with strangers, and so do they. Go on, be a devil, strike up a conversation: I dare you.
As I grow older, and more like walter matthau in grumpy old men, I find I want to talk to people less. I find your post bewildering…