Ah, sweet child, 'tis the deepest question yet. Once upon a time, there was Me and Us and Them. I spent time connected with those close to me (parents, children, friends, teammates, classmates, neighbors) but I also spent a lot of time disconnected. Alone. By myself. Not exactly unreachable, but unreached. On my bike, on trail, in a vegetable garden, in my room, on the porch, accompanied by thoughts, (occasionally) terriers and (often) books. I enjoyed my time with others, but treasured my time without them.

That's not only alien to my young friends, it's horrifying to many of them. They're always connected, always on. The average college student sends and receives over 100 texts a day. The rule is simple: if you receive a text, you've got a minute or two to respond. Any longer and you're either ill or irresponsible. And so when the text signal goes off, everything else gets shoved aside. Everything. Over half of them text while driving. 20% admit to texting during sex. (Okay, so we're better than the Brits: a doubtlessly unreliable 2013 survey showed over half of British women have chosen to answer the phone during sex.) They talk of it in terms of "addiction" (neuro-scientists agree) and the occasional class requirement to give up the internet (which means their phones, too) for a day produces panic and despair. Even the smallest decisions (watch shoppers in the grocery) require affirmation. "Grounding" as a punishment no longer means "stay in the house." It's "hand over your phone." You wonder, how much room does that leave for the development of a "Me"?

Is that automatically and universally bad? Hell no. Too many people would be altogether too alone, trapped by bodies that work poorly, needs that are understood poorly, beliefs that are received poorly. I write, sometimes, and know that folks in rather more than a hundred countries have at least laid eyes on my words. Even here, I share experiences and reflections with folks on at least four continents. I am richer for it but often distracted and sometimes overwhelmed by it. I wonder how those who grew up without the grounding of solitude, without normal disconnection, manage to maintain a "Me" in all the tumult.

Nuts. Rambling on. I'll go oppress the girl now.

Cheers.

S