Tree Falls Sound Made

The adage if a tree falls in the woods does it make a sound is about the idea that if no one is there to hear it fall then there is no sound, no noise to record or echo to mark the occasion. So sound requires a human presence in which to make it exist. We now know that sound exists without human input or output and that we don’t live in a world where all the noise is centered around humans and yet we are a loud group that loves to make noise. Lots and lots of noise.

I used to write in my blog two to three times a day when something passed across the desk that I found interesting, then I decided to work on the essays that I wanted to publish about living in Nashville; Essays that began as blog posts and had since been revised and consolidated to provide a strong perspective about living there as a single woman, strong liberal and highly educated and opinionated, as well as Atheist, in a city that prides itself as being the Buckle of the Belt in the region that prides itself on its numerous Churches. No song better comes to mind when I think of Nashville, as Gimme that Old Time Religion, no Country anthem could come close.

Since that time in conversation with a book store owner she suggested and I agreed that perhaps this was best a fiction novel that takes me out of the center of the story, less the protagonist but more the antagonist who is the outsider looking in and walking away with nothing but lessons learned and perspectives not confirmed but not denied either. And that describes my time there, one where I had some preconceptions, and some were validated and others decimated as I dug in to try to understand that complex place of contradictions.

Since that time we have had a series of events, from the pandemic to the protests centered on the death of George Floyd to the insurrection of January 6th. And with that I observed it all from the window to the world, my television and MAC, in which to weigh in. That is not a live lived as, no participation required. Writing on the blog, posting the necessary links to the necessary social mediums, adding more and more links, cross posts and endless chatter to build audience did the one thing it was not supposed to do, enable me to write, that living thing as well, only before I had managed to do both until sidelined by Covid protocols. When does one actually write when you are writing flash card nonsense, LOOK AT ME!, everywhere and nowhere. If no one likes, retweets, and notes said posts are words read? Is a sound heard?

And with that we have Podcasts, we have Substack, we have YouTube, we have TikTok, Snapchat, Medium, Patreon and many many others which we have to pay to play or read and the endless parade of blogs that still continue in which to express a viewpoint, plug a product or just vent which has been the triad I have used in this blog over the years in which to earn a supplement to this thing called living.

All of exhausts me and no longer provides anything but an outlet to write upon occasion when my tree needs to fall. And it was this article (reprinted below) in the Washington Post about how we don’t speak to strangers anymore. And this is why I moved to Jersey City to be able to have the random encounters that provided enough stimulation and pleasure in which enabled me to live largely in isolation long before Covid. Anyone who has been to Manhattan can tell you that these are the lifeblood of what comprises this amazing city. I can have these exchanges and find myself laughing or shaking my head but no harm nor foul as I can walk away at my own recognizance and be better for it. Of course the comments page is full of either the sayers or the nayers of this notion, and again the funny thing is that almost all the negative comments are from the self espoused liberals, those who believe in equanimity and equality, ranting that they will never speak to a Trumpster ever!!! Coming from Seattle I have long said that liberals there are just as dogmatic and intolerant as any conservative I met in Nashville, they bookend perfectly. But don’t tell them that, Sheep get riled when confronted with ugly truths and facts that neither side seem to agree upon. And with that the presumption that I have the audacity to say yes, speak to someone not like you is a good thing, is met with derision and dismissal. My favorite new criticism is that I am not a woman but an incel. Wow I knew I had a masculine voice when I write but this one is a topper!

So go out and say something benign. Do not start on Trump/Vaccines or other hot bed issues, but on the weather, the Yankees as that does seem to bring on the passion so maybe not, or find a laugh about anything that makes you laugh, small kid throwing a tantrum, a dog’s face and see if you can build a bridge then burn it down. You walk away better and in turn wiser.

Opinion: We’ve stopped talking to strangers. Here’s why we should start again.

Opinion by Helaine OlenColumnist October 5, 2021

I like to talk to strangers.

Or, maybe I should say, I liked to talk to strangers. Given the opportunity, I’ll yak with people I encounter walking my dog or those sitting next to me on a plane or train. I’ve heard about financial woes and career successes, and given and received advice on childrearing and medical care with people I’ve met once and never seen again.

But the past 18 months have not been good for people with my inclinations. Masks donned for protection make it all but impossible to share a smile with someone only momentarily in our orbit, which is often the signal someone is open to an approach. Social distancing hardly encourages transitory conversation — most people don’t, after all, shout chitchat at others waiting in line for coffee or to pay at the farmers market.

This loss isn’t specific to me, though. Transitory connections are good for all of us, as people and as a nation.

In-person encounters allow us to experience life from others’ perspective. As journalist Joe Keohane put it in his recent book, “The Power of Strangers: The Benefits of Connecting in a Suspicious World,” talking to strangers, even for a few seconds, makes us “better, smarter, and happier people.”

Keohane documents in painstaking detail how more connections, even brief ones, made with people we don’t really know — think postal workers and baristas — enhance our daily contentment.

But these interactions were declining even before the pandemic. The age of social media and inequality is not a friendly one. Consider: One study that I’ve written about found that the wealthier individuals are, the less they looked at fellow humans they passed on the street. Another study, cited by Keohane, paired students for simulated job interviews. Turned out, the wealthier conversation partner was generally less socially engaged. Academics believe the more money people have, the less they believe they need other people — and, all too often, act accordingly.

Yet connections are something humans crave and whose absence we notice, even when the relationships that lapse weren’t particularly close. (Personally, I’ve long been convinced that the modern obsession with dogs — one I proudly share — is partly about our need for human connection and a way of obtaining it. Anyone who walks a dog regularly knows that the query “Friendly?” checks both human and canine temperament.)

Social media is often portrayed as a substitute for intimate and casual companionship but offers no such thing — as anyone sitting in a train car amid passengers absorbed in their phones can attest. It narrows our networks to people who think like us, which ultimately can lead to extremism in diet, politics and other areas. Facebook says its goal is to “give people the power to build community and bring the world closer together,” but the platform has deepened divisions and isolation for many.

And in-person discussion has powerful abilities to bring people together. For all the reach of digital ads, many pollsters and policymakers still engage in “deep canvassing,” a form of political outreach in which people supporting a particular position — say, abortion or immigration — knock on doors and ask voters why they believe what they do. They listen without expressing judgment, ask about times people showed or received compassion, and share their own experiences. These conversations have been shown to change minds.

In other words, it’s good for society when people talk to others who are not just like them. It can promote personal and civic welfare. It can make for more open-minded individuals and allow us to see and better accept people who differ — in politics, class, race or otherwise. Talking to strangers, Keohane notes, “can even reduce prejudice, cool off partisanship and help mend fractured societies.”

Perhaps it’s not surprising that covid-driven isolation has deepened our national divisions. These days, what once would have been considered rude behavior is encouraged in the name of self-protection. We limit our social networks and minimize talking to neighbors. It’s now acceptable to admit our co-workers’ casual interruptions interfered with our output. And what happens when our bubbles become normalized? We no longer even need to encounter the underpaid gig worker delivering dinner. Instead, they leave the order at the door and send a text announcing its arrival.

It sometimes seems that social distancing provides an excuse to avoid the sort of interpersonal contact that many people find uncomfortable. But it’s worth remembering that this discomfort can be key to our collective thriving.

Loneliness surged during the pandemic, and so did reports of depression. The sense of malaise, sadness and anger in some quarters, even as society lurches back, is almost certainly related, at least in part, to our continued lack of in-person connections. Here’s a thought: Try speaking with strangers and casual acquaintances again. It can offer a quick pick-me-up in the near term — and might help reduce broader tensions.