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    life. unchained.

    5. coffee Dates with AQuaMan

    have you ever watched a movie or a tv show and felt really drawn to one character? 

    someone who inspired you, someone whom you felt you could be, or someone who you felt you could love? 

    it’s that character in the show that really moved you… so much that you feel like you know the person, that you can call them later, that you can talk over life with them.    

    and then the show ends. 

    the credits roll, the lights come on, the music stops, and you remember that what you watched was not real.  you are not in relationship with that person.  you never were.  you are not jon snow; superheroes don’t exist; you are not dating edward cullen or katniss everdeen.  

    it was just a story.  it may have been a great story, but it was just a story, and you merely watched it. 

    this is what we do on socials: we watch; we consume; we observe. 

    in and of themselves, there’s nothing quite wrong with watching, consuming, or observing, but it becomes an interesting point of conversation when the primary reason one offers for engaging with socials is to ‘stay connected with people’.  

    is watching people’s social posts the best we can offer for the people we say we love?  

    that’s the same point of connection we have with millions of strangers. 

    when the basis of our relationships become our interactions through a screen, they cease to hold the functional characteristics of relationships. 

    unique, interpersonal interactions are lost.  the intimacy of things shared without an audience is adjusted to work for the benefit of the watching masses.  transparency is ever aware that what it offers will be consumed only as we position for it, and only to the degree we allow it. 

    in real-time relationships with humans in front of us, while we conversate, process, and work through the intricacies of life, we don’t have the opportunity for pre-thought.  we can’t position or dress-up or strategize for spectators.  there are no filters.  

    we’re there for the person in front of us. that’s it. 

    i share this because although it’s not so direct a point as the rest, it is something that begs sharing due to the freedom that grows from rich, authentic relationships.  and no matter how hard we try, if we are only interacting with people on socials, we will not be in rich relationships.

    it will be more like watching the movie. 

    we will see through whatever lens the creator wants us to see.  we will experience emotions, feel a closeness, a relatability, a desire for the relationship to be real.  but when the story ends and the timeline stops, all that’s left is a desire for a something tangible.  something we can touch.  someone we can hold.  interaction that means more than our mere observation and scorn or applause. 

    as i write this, i’m sitting at my favorite coffee shop.  i come here every week i’m able and work on whatever project is asking for attention.

    there are a few groups of people that are here every week, but my favorite group sits to my direct left as i type.  their ages range from the early fifties to the late eighties. 

    starting around nine o’clock they start to trickle in and before they know it, the group is too large to sit around the table.  they pull extra chairs from the others in the shop, politely asking for permission with smiles and wrinkles.  

    they know each other. 

    much more than faces and names, these people know what’s been hard about each others’ weeks.  they know who’s celebrating and who’s mourning.  they know about each other’s health challenges, about their grandchildren and great-grandchildren’s sports, musicals, and art shows.  right now, they’re discussing each of their families’ lines of heritage. 

    they’ve been meeting here every saturday morning for over seven years. 

    the eldest of them all, karolyn, is eighty-seven.  she’s caring for her husband, who has been in decline with dementia for the last few years.  she brings him with her every week so he can get out of the house. 

    the group is aware of the couple’s status, and has come around them to provide meals, help around the house, offer breaks for karolyn and help them get around town.  karolyn calls them family, though not one is related by blood. 

    that kind of relationship is not curated through social media.  it’s not an observation-based association.  it’s not positioned for appeal.  it’s not filtered or edited for marketable content.  it’s not strategic. 

    it’s a fellowship.  a multi-way, mutual, sharing.  it’s a collective, responsive, companionship.  it’s rich, authentic relationship. 

    if this doesn’t sound like the status of your relationships, if you read this and wonder how many observation-based associations you have that are not really friendships or fellowships – schedule a coffee date; invite the neighbors over; get the group together from high school or college.  

    do you want followers or do you want friends?  

    i think you can have both.  

    is it time to consider which one you’re curating?

    there is great freedom in rich relationship, and it cannot be won from scrolling the feed, because as much as i’d love to have regular coffee dates with aquaman, he ain’t real.  and neither is that hot guy with great abs and no shirt who talks about diet and exercise – you know the one.  he’s on my weather channel app ads.  he’s a real person, but he portrays what he wants to portray, in the way he wants us to consume it – no different than aquaman’s writers.  

    your followers aren’t coming to your funeral, but your friends are.  which group is worth the curating?  well, that’s up to you.  

    this is life without social media. 

    this is life. Unchained. 

     love, Nic