Listening
I did something I rarely do today and that was to wear headphones as I mooched through the Mall. In part, it was because I was listening to a talk by Gabor Mate, speaking about addiction and the impact of our minds on our physical health...fascinating and familiar, and partly because I wanted to see how it felt to not communicate with the people around me.
I’d only gone a few steps and found my self mouthing hello to a woman at the Villa cafe who I would ordinarily have a proper conversation with. She runs a project which enables adults with quite complex disabilities to learn work skills and participate in community life. It felt quite rude to just walk on by.
A few steps later, I walked past the uniform shop and past Winston who raised his hand in a wave but that was it....nothing conversational about the inevitable queue that will soon start building as the summer closes and school starts. Again, I felt a bit rude even though actually, he may not have even wanted a chat. Just a wave is often enough.
By the time I got round to the bank, I’d already adjusted my headphones so that only one was covering my ear when I bumped into someone I know quite well who expressed surprise. “Didn’t expect you to use headphones Lis. What’s the matter? World got too much?” I didn’t really answer, just muttered something about the lecture I was listening to and that prompted more surprise. “You an addict then?” Before I could answer, he’d gone off with a worldly look and I decided that maybe wearing headphones when I'm out just isn’t for me. I have no addiction but I know how the mind can make the body sick and I know that being connected is what keeps us well.
From the bank, I went to the Post Office, now situated at the back of WHSmith. A shop that was once a back to school stationery nirvana of pencil cases, shiny folders and endless protractors. Now it feels a bit sparse and a bit old fashioned. Do children even use pencils and rubbers anymore?
The queue at the post office counters was huge. Or perhaps it felt that way because the space is so small compared to when it was a real post office. Now it looks a bit like a pretence one at the back of a shop that itself isn’t that real. Or maybe the world has gotten too much after all.
I kept the headphones off and watched the mix of people who, despite all the changes and the shrinking of services requiring snail mail, still seem to need the specialist knowledge of the staff. Three women across six counters and a range of people fully reflective of Wood Green. Old people with canes, young people with pushchairs, a mix of races and most looking at their phones and not anywhere else that would mean contact.
Except, maybe because I was experimenting with headphone wearing, or by now, not wearing, I deliberately looked around and wherever I did make eye contact and smile, even fleetingly, it was returned. It felt good and it felt gentle.
I watched as one of the staff patiently and kindly explained to an elderly woman what the options were regarding sending cards overseas. Oblivious to anyone else in that moment, she paid attention and the old lady clearly felt listened to. Reminded me of my Nan as she left, thanking her for her time and displaying those old school manners that nowadays sometimes seem so lacking.
I watched a woman with a gaunt, pained face and heavy eye make up who stood looking serious to the point of almost scary and saw her suddenly smile warmly at the antics of a small child further down the line. she saw me watching and turned her smile to me.
On my way out, I saw a neighbour with her grandchild who is now coming up to four. A while ago, he’d been sleeping badly, screaming in the night and playing up if he didn’t get what he wanted. I’d explained that the fairies had been saying that they were having trouble getting their work done because of all the racket and evidently this made sense to him because he proudly told me that he’d stopped and were the fairies getting their work done now. Which of course they are. Today he told me he was going to get a dream catcher because his dreams are ‘so good I want to catch them’. It was good to hear.
Which is my point I suppose. I wouldn’t have heard any of these tiny moments if I’d kept my headphones on. The conclusion to my experiment. Being connected to the people around me is my way to hahalala. I shall just have to listen to Gabor Mate at home.
