Rediscovering Human Connection in the Digital Age

I sat in the airport yesterday for 7 hours, and had a total of 3 conversations.

I was among approximately 150 people. I had two conversations with the gate attendants. They frantically tried to get me an alternative flight because I volunteered to be bumped due to a weight restriction.

I was supposed to leave around 2, but ended up leaving at 9 PM.

I had another conversation with a woman sitting next to me. She laughed out loud at something she was watching on her phone.

But her laugh was so...unique. It sounded like a sound a mouse would make if it could laugh. She looked at me when she realized she laughed out loud and the look on my face disarmed her.

Then, she disconnected and we chatted for a while.

I watched as three groups of passengers came to the gate. Nearly all of them, maybe with 2 exceptions, were plugged in and cocooned.

We’ve gotten good at building little walls around us made of earbuds, screens, and disinterest.

Other than grouse about how collectively we've become zombies, I want to explore this in a somber, reflective way.

What is going on collectively?

I've given this a lot of thought.

I think it has something to do with what happened during COVID.

We all took a pause from each other for a very long time, not talking to others because...fear of germs, sickness and death.

Casual, spontaneous conversation was considered dangerous.

And devices stepped in and filled the gap.

A pause can be beneficial for any number of reasons. The pause is there to re-calibrate and reassess. But I think it has now become very distorted.

It's become normalized.

My evening wore on. I was waiting to get on a flight to Charlotte. The airlines provided me with a room for my next flight today.

We were supposed to start boarding at 7:45 PM. My app was saying it was time to board. But the boarding doors to the ramp remained closed.

20 more minutes pass.

Tick-Tock.

I noticed people were now emerging from their cocoons, and becoming agitated. I watched them frantically search their phones for updates.

Nothing.

The gate attendants started assisting those needing to adjust their flights. We had no way of getting to Charlotte on time.

A slow murmur started to build. It was alarming because it had been SO QUIET at the gate all day. There were 45 or so people starting to talk and it was getting loud.

The gate attendants finally came across the speaker and said the pilot hadn't given the signal to board yet.

They weren't really sure why.

The apps were not updating with new information, and now our apps were saying we were preparing for take-off.

Ahhhh....there it was. Humanity connecting again.

Our lives were no longer centered around apps telling us what's next. The digital distractions were no longer in play.

People were talking to each other, sharing stories of travel woes. I overheard a conversation between two couples. They figured out that they lived in the same neighborhood.

There's another story about meeting a neighbor at the airport, but I think it further illustrates my point.

My observation was that we started to harmonize to each other again. When the apps failed, when the oracle was down, we had to switch from digital to analog.

We were forced to be relational to each other and present to the moment.

That's what's beautiful about life.

It's spontaneous.

It's unpredictable and it's alive in a way that a digital existence can't give you.

We were finally able to board as soon as the pilot gave the thumbs up. It ended up, I think, being a lightening issue.

I was seated next to a young man. He was on his way to Fayetteville, Arkansas. He is living there now, but is from Staunton, Virginia.

He works in the same industry as my brother. They are in the same town, hundreds of miles away.

We were having a great conversation. We discussed how 40% of our food is wasted. It is thrown away every day.

We can grow enough food, but people waste so much of it.

He's running a company that's trying to put that food waste to a good, sustainable use.

Just as this connection was getting fascinating, the flight attendant interrupted us. She asked him to move to the middle of the plane because of a weight distribution issue.

And he was gone.

But that connection, although brief, gave me pause. It made me realize how valuable it is to connect to others when there is nothing you need to do.

Like waiting for a flight, or in a doctor's office, or in a line waiting for an experience to begin.

The silence of the device becomes the womb of re-connection. You never know what might happen when you step out of your cocoon.

You learn you're more connected than you can imagine.

It's time to re-emerge and engage again.

Balance out the digital and analog.

We've incubated enough.

Random fact about me: My favorite flavor is GT's Sacred Life Kombucha. If you've had it, you get what I'm talking about. It's my childhood in a drink.