An Epidemic of Disconnection

It’s been awhile since I’ve written here—looking at my last post is a bit like jumping through a Time Machine. December 2019–months before we were plunged into chaos and isolation. Ironically enough, isolation is the very topic that brings me back to this blog.

The COVID-19 Pandemic flipped our entire world upside down. We became “scattered…divided…leaderless…” Sorry—had to let my inner nerd come out for a second. This quote from Fellowship of the Ring probably resonates with many. We were scattered. We became (and continue to become) divided. As far as leaders…well, that seems to be a challenge as well. 

Thanks to social media, we have more ways to meet and interact with people than ever before. Dating apps allow you to meet people you would not normally meet on a day-to-day basis, evaluate their character after a 30-second scan of a carefully (or not so carefully) crafted profile, and pronounce judgment on their worthiness of relationship. We are constantly seeking happiness—to be our most “authentic” self, to craft and create our identities…. 

Add to this the fact that rates of anxiety and depression have increased, and fear of failure and others’ opinions have immobilized many; we find our (Western) culture in quite a lonely, anxious, frozen mess. 

A typed response is not connection, and even “live” connection through the screen leaves something to be desired. As human beings, we are designed and hard-wired to be relational. In fact, we are relational and emotional beings long before we are logical (at least, based on brain development). We are designed to see and be seen; to know and be known. 

And we are missing that part of humanity today. 

Even when connecting in person, we often find ourselves (possibly) still feeling isolated and lonely. It’s as if someone put us in an invisible bubble and there is still a barrier to connection—full, complete, authentic connection. Some of it is is driven from the factors listed above—we are used to the mask of the screen and the keyboard to serve as a protective barrier from the potential harsh verbal barrage we are capable of. Some of it comes from compartmentalizing our life—work vs home vs church vs gym. Some of it is driven through busyness—we only have limited amounts of time to give to people and so conversation remains limited in depth. 

What I have observed through both my work and life, is that the biggest factor for our limited connection is our unwillingness to be vulnerable. What is vulnerability? It’s that feeling that you are putting yourself at risk to be hurt. It’s the sense that you are lowering your shield and removing your armor. It’s putting aside the role or the character and costume that we learned early on in life to adopt. It’s letting others see the face behind the mask. Vulnerability is learning to trust. Usually, it involves painful emotions and information (linked to painful memories.) Unfortunately trust is something that can only be built by doing it (the same is true for courage or patience, ironically both of which are required in being vulnerable and building connection.) 

For some, it’s learning to trust others with information. We keep memories and experiences secret because that information in the hands of the wrong person becomes a weapon to trigger all sorts of painful emotions and negative self-talk. Or it’s being afraid of seeing judgement in someone else’s eyes. Sharing life experiences is like giving someone a sword that they could choose to use against us at any point in time.

Others of us have gotten great at sharing information—we dull the sword to the point that if another tries to use it against us, it would merely ricochet off the rest of our armor. Or we hand the sword over ready for it to be used against us at any point in time, always on guard to dodge a blow. (🙋🏼‍♀️ Cue Taylor Swift “It’s me, hi! I’m the problem, it’s me.”) We may even be good at intellectualizing and sharing the emotions around the information. So for those folks, it becomes more about allowing yourself to feel and experience those emotions—especially painful emotions—in the presence of another. It becomes about opening your bubble and allowing another to step inside of it. It may even be about asking that person to step inside the bubble or voicing a need with an expectation that they will meet that need; we all have needs that we cannot meet on our own and that’s part of what community and connection is for. 

Ultimately vulnerability is about giving up control. It’s about trust. It’s about admitting to, and revealing our weakness with both the hope and expectation that the other person will not take advantage of that and harm us. More than that, we hope that we can join hands and work together to cover each others’ weakness to move forward in love and growth. 

Now, I will add that all of this takes time. It’s not wise to just be vulnerable and trusting with everyone because there are people who will manipulate and weaponize and harm you with both information and emotions. I see the results of that harm every day in my work. Neither extreme—“trust everyone” or “trust no one”—is healthy. Different people can be trusted at different levels and it takes time to determine what level of trust that person is capable of. That’s why patience is important in building connection and building relationship. 

But how would our lives—our neighborhoods, cities, or even our world—change if each of us just became a little more intentional at building community based on vulnerability?

To all who made it to the end of this post, thanks for reading. :)

Cristin

PS— For more on vulnerability, I recommend watching Brene Brown: The Power of Vulnerability