We live in a world of short attention spans. Dabbling in one thing. And then, another. And then, the next. We don’t like to commit for too long. This is just the way of the technology-infused, digital era we live in. Longer form content has a hard time finding its place in this new world where excerpts, tidbits, and bullet-pointed lists dominate our social media news feeds.
When I write, my intention is not to build a wall of text that blocks people out. But I know that I am for some. There are people close to me that I have a connection with, friends and family members, who I know do not read what it is that I write. And I do not fault them for this... it’s just an observation. I know it’s the nature of what it is that I’m doing... what it is that I’m creating. It’s a lot. And I really don’t want to condense it. For some, it’s a wall too high to climb... They glance at it and move on to shorter, more digestible content. This is okay.
I’ve come to discover who it is that actually is listening. (Or who I think it is.) You know who you are, as you’re probably reading this now. When I see a comment or like on something I’ve written or you mention something I wrote in conversation, it means a lot to me. It reminds me that I’m being heard. I have an audible voice and I’m not just screaming to myself like a madman in a windowless room with soundproof walls. There are real human ears taking in what it is that I’m saying.
Towards the beginning of this year, I reached out asking for feedback on what I’ve been writing. And I had this wonderful experience of hearing from a high school acquaintance from 8 years ago. Before he reached out, I had no idea he read or would read anything I was sharing. (He had never liked or commented on anything I had written and I hadn’t seen him in years, so he was not on my radar.) It was a pleasant surprise to discover that he was listening.
You see, I‘ve changed A LOT since high school.... For one, I tried to keep my dancing brushed under the rug despite committing to it in my after school hours.... Now, you see me holding it close to my heart and sharing my love for it with the world. I also felt so very detached from people and things... like most of my peers, I was still figuring my life out. I wasn’t yet an individual... or at least I was afraid to be one. Standing still and on my own was scary... and some of my peers were so ruthless and brutal in their judgement. Accordingly, I spent most of my days alone in the back or front of the classroom, shielding myself off from others, going with the flow, focusing on academics, and trying to hide in plain sight. I couldn’t wait until high school was over...
Today, I feel a lot more full. I’m owning who it is that I am and the many parts that make up “me”. Today, I feel I have a voice. So when someone from my high school past pops into my life and offer me his thoughts on something I’ve said, I feel great. I feel wonderful. I feel as though I’m finally being heard...
When I write, I know I’m creating a wall of text. And that not everyone will read past it. For those of you who do read my words, I appreciate the time you’ve taken out of your day to get to know me better. Your willingness to scale this wall of text and take an intimate look inside my brain is something I hold near and dear to my heart.... You’ll find that there’s always a lot there. Maybe #TooMuch. But it’s all me. Thank you, as always, for listening. The feeling of being heard is one of the most amazing feelings in the world.
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