Cartoon from the New Yorker by William Haefeli. Buy his artwork here.
I
spent the past weekend at my in-laws' in Vancouver, celebrating a
special birthday. They're wonderful people, and I really enjoy their
company. But since my last visit there I've Let-Myself-Change a lot. I'm a much happier and healthier person, more resilient, more attentive, more appreciative, and quieter.
It's this last quality that those who know me (or at least knew
me) seem to find disconcerting. I'm delighted just to be in the company
of people I love. I no longer feel the need to fill the silence with
conversation, and, when I do talk, it's more thoughtful, and (to me at
least) it's about things that matter.
I've noticed this
repeatedly over the past year. Apparently, men listening and paying
attention without talking is a suspicious activity. Men don't observe,
it seems, they stare, and a
man who appears to be genuinely observing must be a starer practiced at
not being too obvious about it. (The gender of the person being
observed doesn't seem to make a difference in this regard.)
And,
apparently, a man listening without frequently interjecting is also
behaving suspiciously. He must be bored, or patronizing, or distracted
by thoughts resonating in his head. If he doesn't talk a lot to confirm
he is listening, well, then, he must not be listening.
(Perhaps this is true of women as well, though I suspect that, in
conversation with men at least, such behaviour is not even noticed.)
We
live in an age when, at any point in time, 2/3 of all drivers and 1/3
of all pedestrians are in cellphone conversations (my own recent
survey, another act of silent observation on my part). So there is no
room, no time, for observation, for just listening, for paying
attention. I speak, therefore I am.
In a singles joint, nothing
is more awkward than silence -- it is simply unacceptable behaviour. It
is considered, I think, a sign of egomania, or voyeurism, or a sign of
social awkwardness or social retardation. It is tolerable if you're
very attractive, or a celebrity with an entourage, but otherwise not.
In
business meetings, paradoxically, those who speak rarely are often
afforded exceptional attention when they do break their silence -- at
least if they're men. Women in business, for the most part, aren't
often afforded attention to what they say no matter how they go about
it. Even, dismayingly, by other women.
In Second Life, as in
real life, it appears that it is up to the male to instigate and
dominate each conversation. He is judged by the cleverness of what he
says. Women, alas, are judged by their attentiveness, and the quality
of their body language -- conveyed through something called animation overrides
(AOs), a brilliant and diabolical invention by some animation cultural
anthropologist too smart for his own good. There is something eerie
about this, when this software offers such opportunity to defy real
world cultural norms, that so much effort is invested to reproduce them.
I
think I am destined to live out much of my remaining life in silence.
Both men and women expect me to talk, while I usually prefer to just
enjoy the company of those I love, in silence. And these days I love
most people, instinctively, without judgement. We are who we are, and
we do what we must.
I don't mind the silence (in fact I find it
liberating; it 'creates space' for other things to happen, and for
things to be noticed). But those whose company I keep seem to find my
silence somewhere between unnerving and excruciating.
So, to the
women I sit silently beside in the airport bar, or meet wordlessly in
Second Life; to the guys in the meetings who mistake my quiet
attentiveness for disdain or disengagement; and to those I love who
find the silence of my company deafening, my apologies. No offense
intended. I simply enjoy your company. I'm sorry you mistake my smile
for something it is not.
|
MADE IN CANADA
trust your
instincts 
