This week I was in the room where it happened. By which I mean the auditorium of the Bristol Hippodrome where on Wednesday evening I went to see the touring production of Hamilton. It was a good evening, not least because it was able to see something live rather than through a screen.
Similarly, yesterday evening, I was in the cricket ground where it happened. On that occasion I was able to enjoy watching Somerset defeat Essex in their opening fixture of this year’s T20 competition. Again, being there in person to see a dozen Somerset 6’s was so much better than watching the game via the livestream, notwithstanding how fantastic the Somerset livestream is.
Many today are living increasingly remote lives. Which is sad because being physically present is vastly better than the virtual contact which doesn’t come anywhere close to the real thing.
When life is difficult, it’s good to know that someone is thinking about you – but it is better still to have someone physically with you, someone who is, quite literally, there for you. Because. as well as showing that you care, being there also allows you to care.
More than that, it causes you to care too*.
Similarly, whilst lovers who are separated may draw comfort from the letters that they send each other – so much more precious, on account of their tangibility, than emails – bits of paper nonetheless remain a poor substitute for being together in person. In order for relationships to be all that they are supposed to be, there needs to be physical contact. That is, after all, why we kiss. More than just a sign of the love shared between two people, a kiss is a physical act of love, one that, since it cannot be undertaken whilst apart, is so much more precious than an ‘x’ added to the end of a text message.
Time then spent in each other’s company is important. Without it, we are diminished as much every bit as much as the lives we consequently lead.
It is sometimes said that what is of prime importance is not so much how much time we spend with those we care about, but the quality of that time. But whilst there may be some truth in this, we make a mistake if we think that the two are independent of one another. Relationships, like a fine wine, take time to mature and quality time doesn’t spontaneously arise aside from a significant quantity of time being spent to allow friendships to develop.
Something else that is often taken as self evident is the idea that on line meetings are better than no meeting at all. Again, there may be some truth in such an assertion, but I can’t help thinking that this is only the case in situations where no physical meeting is possible and the enforced suboptimal interaction is only seen as temporary. In other situations however, where face to face meetings have been replaced by supposedly more convenient virtual encounters, I wonder if they might actually be doing real harm – on account of the increasing isolation that results from their favouring of friendships that are only ever superficial at best.
When meeting up is impossible, be that due to distance, disease or diktats such as were in place during the pandemic, then our absence from one another should, as the saying goes, make our hearts grow fonder. As a result, it should leave us yearning all the more for the time when we will be reunited once more. But when we fail to spend time with one another simply because we can’t be bothered to make the effort, then surely there is something very wrong with our relationships be they with our friends, our family or our work colleagues.
No wonder then that there is a verse in the Bible which warns us not to neglect meeting together [Hebrews 10:25]. Here, of course, the context is in relation to our gathering in church and encouraging one another there, but it remains the case that no virtual relationship can offer the support that friendship maintained in person can since they are, quite frankly, no less artificial than the intelligence that we have lately been hearing so much about.
There are both as equally fake.
Because the truth is we were created to be in physical relationship with one another. Which is surely why we feel such a depth of grief when death separates us from those we love
How much more then should we now spend quantity time with those we care about. And how much more must we ensure that we are there, in the room, where it happens.
*See ‘On not remotely caring’, a link to which can be found below.
Related posts:
To read ‘Contactless’ click here
To read ‘On not remotely caring’, click here
To read ‘Eleanor Rigby is not at all fine’, click here
To read ‘General Practice – still a sweet sorrow’, click here
Some musings 