Cannot be rich

Rhona Canoy .

SO… When City Hall first made the announcement that mobile signals were to be interrupted during scheduled major fiesta activities, not very many people paid heed. Until it happened. At which time a hailstorm of social media rants (from those blessed with wifi) and foul statements aimed at the authorities erupted because of everyone’s extreme level of frustratrion caused  by the inability to post random unimpressive photos and posts on Facebook and Instagram.

In fact, I found it quite amusing how our collective psyche was totally discombobulated. For a country that only a mere two decades ago had mostly telephones that were attached to the wall by wires, our attachment to the mobile gadget has certainly evolved. Somewhere I know there are statistics that say how many of our more than 100 million Filipino bodies own a cell phone, and I know that those numbers are staggering. Hence the level of distress. It also disturbs me that there seems to be an overwhelming epidemic of addiction to screen time. Yes, dear. It has been made official by the latest list of mental illnesses. Maybe you should ask yourself just how addicted you are. And if you need medical help.

Taking a look at the bigger picture, one must ponder how a culture that runs away from any form of worthwhile communication and dialogue can be so affected by disconnection from the internet and the mobile system. Let’s face it. We are not a nation that thrives on real communication. Families don’t really talk with each other, parents hardly know what’s going on in their children’s lives and minds regardless of how old these offspring are. The workplace is no different. Bosses don’t really communicate with the people who work for and with them except usually to assign blame elsewhere when there are problems and things go horrendously wrong.

And yet we are very invested in a lot of talk—unverified bits of information on the internet, the entertainment section of the nightly news especially when it entails lurid details of some celebrity’s uncovered secrets, neighborhood chismis that covers someone else’s misfortunes, tragedies and scandals. Oh, yes. We like the talk. As long is it’s about nothing that truly matters. As long as the subject doesn’t hit too close to home. We don’t like talk when it is directed at us. We don’t like talk when it demands accountability. We don’t like talk when it is of an opinion dissimilar to ours. We don’t like talk when it requires us to open our minds and our hearts to ideas which may enrich or widen our horizons. We seem to have a problem dealing with talk and its directionality. We prefer a controlled mostly one-way sort of channel. All teenagers know this.

That’s why it puzzled me, this panic that there was no signal and one couldn’t call or text anyone for a predictable amount of time. For people who, as a rule, prefer to be disconnected from others, to be actually disconnected was alarming. Where’s the sense in that? I was actually curious as to what kinds of conversations were born because it was the only thing left to do. How terrifying that must have been. The thought of actually having to talk to someone face to face for a long time or face awkward silences. What was there to talk about? Was it worthwhile? Did it have value? Did they learn something from each other? Did the talk leave them with thoughts to ponder upon?

My job entails a lot of talk. Communication. Expressing and listening. It is exhausting. I admit that. And requires a lot of compassion and generosity if anything is to be achieved. Words to describe, words to heal, words to elicit laughter, words to ease pain, words to exchange ideas. Words to teach, words to enhance understanding, words to erase confusion, words to resolve conflict. Words, words, words. And for those of us who must function in this atmosphere, we see the effect words have. We see the impact made upon people when they realize that they are being heard. And affirmed. And respected. Words to plant seeds of thought, like the words you are reading now.

Communication at its very best is an act that goes beyond hearing and listening. It is an act of reaching out, of establishing a connection, of nurturing a relationship. It requires honesty, sincerity. It involves losing one’s fear, and a willingness to suspend opinion and judgment. And requires the ability to be fair. All these things are contrary to the human instinct for survival. And yet if we are to believe that humans are a superior being, then we must be able to view survival in a totally different way.

All the divisiveness we see on social media and the growing chasm between differences in opinion and beliefs is a result of our inability to communicate. Working to sell a particular agenda, or to win an argument, or to be right—this is not communication. Arguments and debates sell themselves as communication but one must question the end goal of these things. We walk around with a high level of closed-mindedness because we have already decided that we are right. So we voluntarily handicap ourselves from the possibility that there may be thoughts and ideas better or greater than hours. And God forbid that we hear an opposing idea that actually makes sense. How threatening is that?

I was just as nervous as the next person. We do tend to get paranoid. What if I needed to call an ambulance? What if something happened and we couldn’t call the police? What if there was an emergency and I couldn’t be reached? Worst nightmare was what if there was a fire and there was no way to call the fire department? In hindsight, I’m thinking how ineffectual I must be. Instead of finding alternative ways to address these potential hazards, I wallowed in the helplessness I chose to feel. And that all these disasters were waiting to happen to me just at the time when there was no means of communication was actually kind of egotistical, now that I think about it. Yes, there was someone I know who did need the services of an ambulance. And they were lucky enough to find an available taxicab as soon as they went out on the street to find transport. So the patient did get to the hospital in time. And I don’t think there were any fires reported during the signal blackout period. So how lucky were we!

Next time there is no mobile signal, put things in perspective. We survived well enough before it, as I’m sure we’ll be okay till it comes back. As for me? As for me? I bathed in the glorious silence, knowing that for that limited period of time, only God was going to be able to call me on my cellphone.