Have We Chosen Superficiality

I distinctly remember the moment when I understood that social media was good for my life. I was staring at an image of Egyptian Christians holding hands in a circle and facing outward. Behind them, in the center, were Egyptian Muslims praying. Together, they were occupying Tahir Square and calling for the end of the Mubarak regime. The Christians stood watch to keep their Muslim brothers safe from the police as they knelt down and touched their foreheads to the ground. My heart swelled with a love for humanity. This photo still fills me with hope, despite the Arab Spring’s complex legacy.

But something happened to me personally, as well, in that moment. I became profoundly cognizant of how technology was inviting me to learn and listen to people I did not know and would never meet. I was watching a movement unfold in real time and the struggle of a people half a world away felt so intimate. I know how funny this sounds, but a sense of genuine gratitude for Twitter washed over me.

And despite the complex legacy of social media, I am still incredibly grateful for the fact that I feel so much closer to people all over the world. Technology has helped me find my family in Kenya, Santa Barbara, Sydney, and Warsaw. Today, I am writing to you from a cafe in Barcelona, excited and hopeful at the possibility that you might write back.

It is true that the world can feel overwhelming, social media may cause us to feel depressed, technology can be used to oppress us…and there are so many more pathways for genuine connection than we’ve ever experienced in our brief history as a species. And for this I am grateful.

The Modern Spiritual Malaise

I don’t share my gratitude for technology to minimize what so many of us are feeling. It is paradoxical that in our hyper-connected world, so many of us feel overwhelmed and isolated. The constant barrage of information, responsibilities, and societal expectations have left us feeling disconnected from ourselves and others. 

Some of this, I believe, is because we have chosen the ease of superficial connections offered up by technology instead of investing in the more intimate connections we crave. And while many people are asking us to turn off our screens and get together in person, perhaps it is the type of screen time we should be talking about. 

Ultimately, the antidote to this modern malaise is a more intentional practice of shared vulnerability and deep listening. By creating spaces where we can be truly seen and heard, we can foster profound connections that not only alleviate our sense of overwhelm but also enrich our lives in unexpected ways. And I think this can happen online just as it can in person. For me, it is not the technology that is the issue but the superficiallity that has become available to us in this hyper-connected world. 

The Fear of Vulnerability

Some of the superficiality we experience today is rooted in our fear of vulnerability. Technology exacerbates the superficiality we use as a defense of being seen. I don’t say this glibbly. Many of us fear vulnerability for good reasons. We've been hurt in the past or we've internalized the belief that we must always appear strong and in control. However, it's precisely our willingness to be seen in our entirety – flaws, fears, and all – that allows for genuine connection and personal growth.

The emotional walls we have created to keep unsafe people out also block genuine connection with the people we need. The need to appear perfect or at least competent can lead to chronic stress and may prevent us from taking risks and limiting our growth. Crafting curated versions of ourselves aggravates a belief that we’re frauds and we end up with fewer relationships or shallow ones that lack the intimacy we crave.

Time and again we hear (or talk about) this overwhelming world and it’s impact on our physical, emotional, and psychological wellbeing. But overwhelm comes from how we process what’s happening in our outer world. It isn’t a product of the chaos of the outside; it is a product of our inner world.

By embracing vulnerability, we not only open ourselves to a richer, more authentic life experience, we are cultivating resilience. The greater our sense of intimacy with ourselves, with others, and with the world, the greater our overall wellbeing. This is why it is so essential to find our people, but as I mentioned in my last letter to you:

[Finding people willing to drop the mask] is probably less of an “us finding them” and more of allowing them to find us.

That is, if we want to find people we can be authentic with someone has to go first.

Creating Spaces for Shared Vulnerability

Creating safe spaces where people feel comfortable opening up involves establishing clear boundaries, practicing openness, and fostering an atmosphere of acceptance and empathy. And perhaps the most importantly, we need to model vulnerability ourselves. By sharing our own experiences and emotions authentically, we demonstrate that it's safe for others to do the same.

It sometimes feels like we all want to be heard and no one wants to listen. Listening is probably the greatest gift we can give the world right now. The practice of fully engaging with another person, giving them our complete attention without interruption, judgment, or the need to formulate a response often feels like the spa treatment we never knew we needed.

In a world filled with distractions and superficial interactions, listening is a radical act of connection. It creates a space where I can feel truly valued, which invites me to explore my vulnerability and deepens the relationship. We often assert that we are looking for a place to be heard but, ironically, listening is the antidote to the modern spiritual malaise.

Listening v. Hearing

There is a difference between listening and hearing. By applying a small amount of intentionality throughout the day, we can radically change how we encounter people. This means paying attention not just to the words people are saying, but also to the tone, body language, and the emotions behind what they're saying.

There is nothing radical about these three suggestions—nothing radical at all—except that almost no one does them. So when someone actually uses these techniques on us, we feel heard, maybe for the first time that day (or even days). Just for today, pick ONE person, one conversation, where you can use these techniques with and see how it changes not only their experience of the conversation but yours as well.

1. Use open-ended questions (ones that can’t be answered with a “yes” or “no”). These typically begin with “How,” “What,” or “When.” Open-ended questions encourage elaboration and deeper discussion and avoid superficial answers.
2. Pay attention to your body and use non-verbal cues such as nodding, maintaining eye contact, and leaning forward to show engagement and interest. 
3. Paraphrase what you've heard and ask clarifying questions to ensure you understand. This not only helps the speaker feel heard but also deepens your comprehension.

These aren’t tricks. These are small adjustments in our behaviors that help us become better listeners. As we cultivate better listening habits, it might seem like the people we are speaking with benefit the most, but personally we may likely find that our sense of overwhelm also diminishes. Being truly seen and heard creates a sense of connection and support that can buffer us against stress and anxiety. Moreover, the authentic connections we form through vulnerability and deep listening can provide us with new perspectives and coping strategies, building our resilience in the face of life's challenges.

xo, Ian