Last night, I attended an event organised by an actor training company called Both Feet, which specialises in training actors for careers in theatre and film. The event enabled me (and others in the audience) to gain insights into the sorts of activities and exercises that these actors undertake, a lot of which are geared towards understanding our humanity and embracing the human condition.
At the start of the event, the host, Stephanie Morgan talked about the practice of attempting to make eye contact and connecting with others while walking on the streets or navigating public transport in busy cities, something that most people in Britain have strong opinions on, with cultural attitudes differing from place to place. She shared an anecdote on how she once counted 57 people who refrained from reciprocating her attempted eye contact on an hour-long walk, and how the 3 who obliged made the 57 rejections worth it.
This resonates with me on multiple levels. For one thing, I'm well aware of our need for connection as humans and the sting of rejection. It's something I've written about on this blog, albeit in the context of creative exploits, even though the same applies on a personal level. For another thing, I'm ashamed to say that as much as I strive to be present, sometimes I'm more likely to be one of the 57 while I'm out on my walks. Eye contact is something I struggle with personally, partly because I feel the need to focus on my destination at the expense of the journey. The irony here isn’t lost on me, because I’m well aware that in life and art, it behoves me to focus on the journey and not the destination. What’s more, when I set out on my daily walks, the destination is almost always the same as the starting point – which is home – therefore the walk should be all about the journey, which would mean being present and connecting with other humans.
Listening to the host talk about connecting reminded me of the beauty of stopping to smell the roses, the beauty of connecting, and the beauty of being human. And isn't that what living is all about?
P.S.: My debut non-fiction book, Art Is The Way, and my middle-grade novella, A Hollade Christmas, are out everywhere now. You can get them in all good bookstores and from all major online vendors.