>as fate would have it, the teaching topic at church this morning was “community”. but not just any kind of “community”. “authentic community”. the best kind. the kind that, like the best kind of love, is filled with people with whom we belong. who genuinely care for us. who hold us accountable. it is the kind of relationship that i long for. long. be-long. i believe that it is that kind of longing that lies within each of us that compels us. to do what, you ask? to seek. to satisfy. the longing. when we do not have that longing fulfilled, we start to disintegrate. dis-integrate. to intentionally not belong. or worse, to belong to the wrong. when all parts of us are not working together, integrated, we fall apart. maybe we do not notice it. or we have trained ourselves to believe that the disintegrated “us” is the normal, the default. but i don’t think so. i believe that this crazy world we inhabit works constantly and strategically to convince us that we are alone, that we are an island. so that it, with all of its trappings, all of its services and products and programming, can swoop in and be our salvation. when, ironically, what we need to be saved from is that very same world and all that comes with it.
take a week off from television. if you really pay attention and give yourself a true visual media sabbatical, when you turn it back on, you will be offended. not necessarily just morally, but at the very core of your being. it might occur to you to question the box, “you think you know me? who do you think i am?”. when at precisely the same time of night, it shows you advertisements for an anti-depressant. or a pill to keep your herpes in check. or plays on your emotions to summon up memories of the music of your youth. it does know you. because you turn it on at the same bat-time and same bat-channel each day. or week. and it has someone on its payroll whose only purpose in life is to figure out who you are. what you use. where you go. what you eat. how you feel. when you were born. it’s a sobering thought. identity theft does not just occur on paper. it occurs every time we turn on the television. it takes away our ability to relate to others. pay attention. when you are in a room full of people, how much authentic community is taking place if the television is on. there does not even have to be any volume. it still becomes the focus. it takes away all our sense of true human relationship. it works to make us believe we are alone by making itself the only thing we believe we have in common with others. it boasts that it is reality. while depriving us of our own.

of this is not to say that there is not worthwhile programming in television. or that sometimes, it’s okay to just sit down and vegetate. but maybe we should keep track of how often we do that. and maybe is there not something else we could do that would improve our quality of life for the long term? taking a walk. listening to a song. reading a great book. calling an old friend. baking something. meandering through the new grocery store down the street.

i am writing this piece as much to myself as to anyone else i know. i am in the process of forcing myself out of the house. i no longer give myself the right to whine about my lack of relationship(s) when my own reclusivity is the culprit. last night, i went out with a friend — our first stop was the urbanmarket in downtown dallas — a lovely little grocery, florist and cafe. then we went to a great little salvadoran/mexican restaurant called Gloria’s on greenville avenue. i forgot how much i loved exploring unfamiliar places like that. and i questioned myself about why i was completely comfortable flying to another country and spending months traveling around alone, yet going out in america alone gave me tiny little heart palpitations. and then i heard a quote from George Gallup, “americans are the loneliest people in the world”. oh.