Finding a Rhythm at the Wobbly Point, Comfort Zone Communication

As the week gallops by, the days are lengthening, and we have a big full moon hanging up there, casting shadows even at night.

I'm already harkening ahead to the dizzy solstice days when there's almost never any darkness to hide behind, no excuse of darkness not to be busy and out there--and it's not even the equinox yet, although the clocks going forward so soon brings it closer (grumble). (On the other hand, Phil also points out that during those summer days, light riots in such luxurious abundance that it's easy to postpone projects because it'll still be light all the way to midnight.)

On a happier note, I've spent significant time the past two days writing poetry, reading poetry, and writing a critical essay. In this awkward, cuspy time of year, as snow lingers and light lengthens and shadows shift and everything feels a bit off, I cannot quantify how much better I'm feeling in myself as a result of this. The cow's being milked and oh, it feels good.

I'm going to keep this brief tonight, as there's still some work to do, but speaking of work, I wanted to share some thoughts about an odd kind of "comfort zone communication" I've been experiencing recently. I don't know whether to call this a "problem" or just a "phenomenon." What I'm noticing is that for many people, myself included, it's more comfortable to open up, be chatty and conversational, remotely, than it is to interact face to face with actual people, body language, and all the rest of it.

Last week, with all the haywire technology around my course's midterm, I spent an inordinate amount of time on the phone with the technological folks and with the distance education services co-ordinators. And some of the tech guys in particular, not otherwise noted for being socially outgoing, were positively chatty! While we tried to chase down the bugs in my course shell, their conversations ranged over a variety of topics, they were inquisitive about my course and the languages referred to therein, etc, etc. I'm grateful for this in a way, as it's the closest thing I get to collegiality much of the time, as a distance-education faculty. On the other hand, with my writing time so precious and so threatened, I worry about the ease with which I can end up, essentially, chit-chatting while we try to fix broken software. Then, I see myself chatting on facebook, or writing lengthy and socially appropriate emails, at times when I'm not together enough to talk "in real life" to anybody in a remotely civil or socially appropriate way.

How is it that we can adapt to conversation without any of the cues and immediacy that make it meaningful and relevant? Isn't it backwards that I find interacting with someone I can't see less stressful than I find interacting with someone naturally, with their sight, smell, sound, affect and their presence right there with me?

Interesting that I'm posing the question on my blog, another asynchronous and not-in-person communication medium. I just hope that hiding behind a screen isn't eroding my ability to communicate in person.

Any thoughts?