I watched my friend Burt Kirby recently. He was visiting with one of our more elderly neighbours in Deep Bay. We knew that she had contracted Covid on a cruise ship voyage to Alaska and had been ‘confined to barracks’ since her return. I remember the day well because it was the day we held our annual Deep Bay Duck Race, a fine bit of Silliness if ever there was one. The race brings everybody out from two year olds to ninety year olds and it culminates with a BBQ and awards.

“I know you can’t come over after the Duck Race but can I bring back a plate of food for you? Maybe a burger or a hotdog?”

It was what Burt is, one of the kindest men I know but it was more than that. It is an answer to a question we are all asking.

“What is missing?”

You know when one reaches my age which as many of you know is seventy-three (because I almost invariably repeat it every time out now) one runs the risk of not being ‘heard’ of becoming unseen, ignored, dismissed. That may be the case, goodness knows I have been known to go on a bit but my sense is that on this one the question is being asked across many generations.

“What is missing?”

There is an unsettled anxiety about modern living reflected in what appears to be significant increases in everyday aggression, civic protest, distrust, uncivil behaviour by everyday people, road rage, social anxiety and mental health issues. It will be one of the great ironies of my lifetime that in this time of our extraordinary ability to communicate with one another, we don’t. The machines they promised would allow us to communicate as never before in history, have failed us. Millions of us live in complete isolation, our machines, our communication platforms isolating us rather than connecting us. Of course it is easy to contradict that suggestion. After all we can ‘communicate’ so easily and efficiently via text or social or email or FB, Telegram, Tik Tok or whatever it is that comes out this week but to think that is not to see it for what it really is.

Go to a restaurant, any restaurant and watch tables of guests. You will see entire families, smartphones in hand, heads buried, consumed with a video or photo or whatever distraction arrives on the screen. Couples out on a date. Same thing. And when asked they will report that they had a great time.

“It was good to talk, you know spend time together.”

In one another’s physical presence they are actually isolated by their machines. Where it matters, the very thing that we have been told will revolutionize our ability to communicate has done exactly the opposite.

And where that matters most is in our human contact with one another. That is what is missing.

Meaningful human contact. Frivilous human contact. Everyday human contact. Can I bring you a plate of food contact.

I spend summers in Deep Bay BC, in a small enclave of families, mostly older people living in a seaside community. It is a very healthy place to be. A place where we all say ‘hello’ and we all ask after one another, where we all watch over one another. A place we all come to love because we know it is a place where we can thrive. It is a vibrant, active community of people. It has reminded me what is missing.

“How’s your ankle Burt?”

“Do you have a socket wrench Don?”

“I’m going to get some propane in town, do you need anything?”

“Can I help?”

When I most notice it, is when I return to our place in Nanaimo. We live in a beautiful townhouse in a strata and make no mistake I know we are lucky. But for the most part we live in isolation from our neighbours, we have very little meaningful contact with them.

No ‘How’s your shoulder?’

No, ‘What are you doing for Halloween?’

Don’t get me wrong. They are very nice people and the isolation I suppose is intentional but it is not healthy. It is not how a community thrives or grows. Covid of course made this all worse, for all of us. We were forced to isolate and we adapted to the imposed social limitations. It was the right thing to do at the time but it took its toll on us as individuals, within our own families and our communities. When we are isolated from one another we lose our sense of community. It is not healthy.

It seems so simple and yet it has become so difficult. I mean c’mon, how far apart are ‘community’ and ‘communication’ anyway? Phonetically, not very far but in our modern day reality, they are world’s apart and that is a problem.

My word though, I can’t just dump that on you and leave. That would just add to your despair about modern living. Here’s the deal, the solution as always is in our hands. Try this on for size. It may seem a small thing but it is your way of making a change. Resolve that each day you will engage in one authentic, meaningful communication with another human being, not using a machine. It doesn’t have to be important, it doesn’t have to be a relative or a friend it just has to be real and genuine. It’s not my place to tell you what that is but I will tell you that if you do, over time you will feel connected in a way you may not now. You will feel better about yourself and your place in your world.

It may be what is missing.

I have reread this blog several times and each time I get to the end knowing it is easy to dismiss as the idle musings of a muddled mind. That it may be.

Or not.

I’ll leave that part to you.