We’re one call away from our tribe. Everywhere we go (as long as it’s not the Prague subway), we can just dial a number and be engulfed in support. We’re one call away from being calm, one call away from feeling grateful, loved, cared for and sometimes scolded.
Humanity is evolving towards a support model where we don’t need actual contact. When I feel the need to be with someone, it’s enough if we’re in the same house – interaction doesn’t mean as much now. We’re moving from needing to be held to needing to be heard.
I don’t need a hug or holding hands. Most times it’s enough to get a text. I don’t even need to vent, I’m grateful for having space to share the good, the funny, the absurd that goes throughout my day. A place to talk about the flower I cried for in the subway or the guy that tripped because I smiled at him. About how good the M41 at the Chinese restaurant around the corner is or about how absurd I find it that guys call me princess while I’m at home, sitting in my oversized hoodie and dripping Nutella in my coffee.
And that’s somehow sad. I think I need less, just so in moments of crisis I need more. We’re so connected we don’t realize how far away we are. We’re hearing all we want, need and don’t need to hear, but we’re not getting the cradling that would put a stop to our worries. Sometimes we need that, not for the version of ourselves that is now present, but for the 5yo inside who wants to be tricked with candies when throwing a tantrum on the sidewalk.
