The Fear of Disconnect

It is a beautiful thing to be in silence.  As I look out my friend's bay window into a setting that would make Robert Frost's heart skip a beat, I feel content to be a spectator of beauty.  There is a warm glow coming from a neighbor's window and I gaze into the house which is obviously a home.  Wisconsinites don't have fences in their backyards.  They see their neighbors to know which walls to build around their hearts.  A part of me wants to become a part of it and understood by it, but too often I find myself a few steps behind and moving to a different beat.

The feeling of not belonging is numbed by the instant gratification of social media.  I have to share this experience with someone.  I need this moment of grace validated.  A few likes and a comment later I gaze back out the window and the sun has set.  The moment is lost and I can't reconnect.  

Later that evening a friend from Milwaukee comes to visit.  We both periodically check our phones and check in on all the appropriate social media apps.  He checks in the shitty beer he is drinking and let's me know that he has had over 100 different types of beer in the past year.   

"How are you feeling?" 

"Fine"

"You?"

"Alright."

We're both going through a divorce and decided to commiserate with each other over beers.  Both of us look down at our phones again.  Houston, I think we have a problem...I look up at the other people at the dimly lit bar immersed in conversation, 10 years ago this would have been a dream to come in here and talk to people, to know their stories and become a richer person for it.  Now, I am more concerned about making an impression on the people that aren't even in the room.  

I've decided to disconnect.  I've been disconnected from the present anyway for far too long.  The decision made,

I already feel the rawness.  I feel lonely knowing that social validation is now a longer process that just two clicks and a few sentences away.  I want to reach out and have beautiful moments and enjoy other's presence and really see them.  Real connection is now going to be a learned behavior, one that I hope I can master.  

Into the Void

I will admit that I am a master procrastinator. Call it an unhealthy fear of failure. A fear of emotional intimacy which is also the reason I have not shared this blog with close friends that may actually get a bit of a kick out of it. They only get to see my live performances which can be amended later where this just makes me feel naked.

I hate the Midwest. It is a living stereotype of everything that I thought I wanted. It's really just a nightmare. People 'shop the ads', clip coupons and consider themselves swing voters. People are very complacent and happy which is disastrous for someone who's personality is solely based upon sarcasm and self deprecation. It's not like I didn't know what I was getting myself in to; before I left my friend Erin said, "You'll find away to make it work. You'll put painted wooden scarecrows on your porch but I can imagine them all looking very sardonic."

I lived in Utah previously which people may think and even I thought was just as awful and backward as a small Midwestern town, but it's not. While there are plenty of Mormon stereotypes and they do have strong political influence it is easy to create a niche in Utah being some sort of anti-thesis to the 'accepted culture'.

There is still some hope. Growing up one of my favorite books was Main Street by Sinclair Lewis. It's about a woman that marries a small town country doctor and despite her best efforts cannot make a go of Gopher Prairie, MN. She leaves to the city for awhile but eventually returns. Maybe, I really haven't learned to appreciate West Bend, WI for what it is. As, I sit here complaining I realize that because I let my fear get the best of me I am no Caroline Kennicott.