The Ache for Depth in a World of Surfaces
The quiet depth only writing can reach
I have met a lot of people on this platform. And it has been amazing. Ok, so we haven’t actually met, not in any traditional sense. But something in me keeps saying, this feels real. This feels authentic. And I know why. What all of you have to say reaches me deeply.
That’s the strange power of the written word. It bypasses performance and pretense. It slips into the quiet places and speaks directly to the self we usually keep hidden.
Your words have done that for me. Over time, they started to feel like letters written straight to the private corridors of my heart; eloquent, funny, honest, aching. They make me feel seen in a way that has caught me completely off guard.
You, all of you, live in your worlds, so far from mine. Yet there is connection. But, there’s no storyline here, no hanging out, no running to get a cup of coffee. But there definitely is a connection. Just not that kind of connection. And connections like this are rare, and not to be dismissed. Not romanticized, or minimized; because they are real, something unmistakable. A kind of recognition between souls who seem to speak the same language underneath all the noise and exhaustion of life.
Many of us have exchanged comments. Nothing dramatic. But what’s emerging between the lines is mutual presence, authenticity, curiosity, humanity. I offer my real self. You respond in kind. It’s about depth, and meaning. Whenever I read your words, the world jumps out at me in sharper colors. I begin to see the truth in relationships. I feel like a better person for having absorbed your messages, your lessons about your own pain. They put things in perspective for me in a way I’ve never experienced. Real. Authentic. Brutally, beautifully, human.
And ever since I began to read your words, other people in my life, my actual real life, seem to be… less than. I’m beginning to see the lack of authenticity or substance in many of the relationships I’ve cultivated over the years.
Unfortunately, that says a lot about me as the person I was. Because the person I’m becoming… just doesn’t want that in his life.
I don’t mean that in a self-pitying way. I’m not saying those relationships are worthless, or that the people are not worth noticing or caring about. But I am noticing how easy it is to settle for surface level interaction. How seldom we really meet someone who sees us clearly, and lets us see them in return. And how deeply I crave that, because there are those increasingly rare few whose presence makes the whole world feel a little more vivid.
So, this isn’t about anything in particular. I guess it’s really just… simple. You all have reminded me what true connection feels like. What substance sounds like. What it means to be met fully, authentically.
And that reminder changes things. It has changed my world. In ways I never expected. It has acted as an epiphany for me.
I no longer want to chase connections that ask me to shrink, hold back or pretend. I no longer want to nod along with people who aren’t really listening. I no longer want to explain myself to those committed to hiding truth or misunderstanding, or not taking the time to be fully present. I only want relationships that recognize me for the person I am, in the place I am at.
Because now, I’ve felt what it’s like to be heard, and I mean truly heard, and I can’t go back to noise, ever.
No, I am not personal friends or in your lives in any typical, traditional way. But I care. Deeply. And not because you made me feel special. But because you’ve made me feel real. You see me, without even trying to. You get it. You feel real pain and understand what it is to bleed, to hurt, and to get up, dust yourself off and keep going.
Being here, with all of you, has reminded me of something I’d stopped honoring. An important place I’d forgotten to seek. And maybe that’s all this moment needed to be, an initiation.
Toward truth.
And now that I’ve heard it clearly, I’ll never stop listening for it again.
Go easy on yourself, Mike. I feel it too, the gravity and depth of this community. But it’s always going to be different than IRL relationships no matter what. Written word vs being in the same physical space as someone are too fundamentally different. It’s relatively easier to be vulnerable and real behind a screen. But in person, unless you have a very close relationship, no one is going to be that intimate with you.
I just saw my best friend of 20yrs who I love deeply and she joined Substack to read my content and even she learned new things. The stuff we write about here just isn’t going to be in our everyday conversations with people face to face. Enjoy Substack for what it is but don’t let it jade you for in person relationships.
I have to echo the richness and depth of the Substack community overall, especially in comparison to other social media platforms (at least from my humble, limited experience). While I have seen peeks at the standard issue uglier side of trolling and the like, I have not directly experienced any such thoughtlessness. I have found a vulnerability about Substack—at least relative to other social medias—that lends a greater sense of potential for not only being heard, but the privilege of hearing someone else. At its best moments, it’s almost a model of how social media ought to evolve. It is a community of experimentation, validation, friendship, artistic growth, exciting new voices, and points of view I can’t get anywhere else (at least not so easily, all in one place). I’m enjoying my time here thus far and happy to trade more superficial doom scrolling on other spaces for checking out fresh poetry, prose, and intimate reflections of folks all just trying to express something true here. It ain’t perfect, but I likes it. Thanks for sharing your perspective on it!