Alex, the mere fact that you question if you have tilt benches in your heart tells me that you likely have far fewer than most people do. The self reflection here shows self-grace and honest vulnerability.
Whenever I read your work I feel like I am listening to a really good friend.
I know we already are, and I want to ask out loud like a grad schooler with a beaming heart….will you be my friend??
I feel like we could spend hours on a filthy bench and find ways to be comfortable and giggly at the same time, cuz that’s what friendship and true connection is.
Hahaha, YES I will :) We could totally spend hours on a filthy bench (and that bench was pretty filthy, it had rained earlier that day too - probably another reason people weren’t sitting haha!).
I appreciate that - I have worked for many years on my tilt-benches, knowingly and unknowingly. I am much less tilty and cactus prickly nowadays 🩵 😂
First, I love your metaphors. "Hostile architecture" is a perfect phrase, albeit a pretty jarring one. As I read your piece today, I thought about the times I am out and about in my community and what happens when I "unplug" from my phone while I'm walking at the park or shopping at the store or waiting in line somewhere. To be clear: it is incredibly awkward for this introvert, but it is rewarding.
What I mean is that, because I'm not glued to my phone in a waiting room, I am more apt to notice the person who needs the door held open for them, and then I hop up to do it. My head is up, not down, so I am more inclined to make eye contact with strangers and smile at them. I'll notice details, like the decorations adorning an administrative assistant's cubicle, and spontaneously comment and compliment them.
People are generally surprised when I do this. Sometimes I surprise myself, because it's all unscripted, unplanned. I just respond to the moment I find myself in, and it doesn't feel comfortable for me, but I do it, because I know from experience how powerful these micro-moments of connection can be for others. I have received a lot of strange looks, startled and taken aback. I have received comments along the lines of, "Well, thank you. No one has ever said that before!" Or "Wow, I really appreciate your patience/politeness/kindness. We don't really get that very often around here." Etc.
When I was younger, I never realized the power of small moments of connection. I shied away from them, sticking to my familiar bubble of familiar people. But now I try to deliberately step outside of what is known and comfortable so that I can encounter all sorts of people.
And you know who taught me that? My very own Sarah. I have a story about Sarah going up to a man we learned was named Steve at a medical facility. At the time, Sarah approached everyone in waiting rooms. She was a little over two years old and just wobbled right up to some rando person, much to my horror. But every time she did it, the person would literally light up like a Christmas tree and tell me, usually with tears in their eyes, that Sarah's smile brightened their day, cheered them, sometimes after they'd received hard news.
"People are generally surprised when I do this. Sometimes I surprise myself, because it's all unscripted, unplanned. I just respond to the moment I find myself in, and it doesn't feel comfortable for me, but I do it, because I know from experience how powerful these micro-moments of connection can be for others."
This.
There is something about that unplanned, unscripted, just human moment of connection. That little something of noticing and extending attention and care. Being deliberate. Being generous with our attention.
I'm always noticing things. I'm not always so good at sharing the little things I pick up about people. Sometimes, because I have found they don't want to know. HAHA!
I love your Sarah stories. The way she sees the world is how I wish we could all see the world. And it is likely why so many people would light up and respond the way they did. Such a pragmatic, kind, and beautiful innocence.
Alex you ask the best questions. Can my tilt bench be the fact I don't want to look at my tilt benches?! 🙈 It's hard to admit where we shut others out. I definitely resonated with saying I'm too busy, when I might not be. I think for me, a big factor is probably a level of never feeling good enough, and so it's easier to pretend things are OK, even when it's hard. I'm much better at that now than I used to be, and I've realised the power of vulnerability in connecting with others, but if I'm totally honest, it's still there. Don't know if that'll ever completely go to be honest, but hey, we can try right?
Hahaha - I’m sure you can have a tilt bench just for that!
I think i’m almost a pro at going to therapy now. 😂 There are still things I don’t want to talk about and tilt myself away from. I think it is SO normal. So yes, you can have a tilt bench AND, you can tighten it up so it no longer tilts. When you are ready :)
I think you are right - I bet some of these become defensives, tied to limiting beliefs. It brings up the memory of our conversation around perfectionism a few months ago - I could totally see perfectionism being a tilt bench - creating a set of behaviors that keep you busy and enmeshed in other things because you didn’t feel like you were enough. I think that is an interesting connection and something to think about.
Haha - i’m not sure those things ever go away, I just think we get better at managing them! We will someday be pros :)
I feel lovingly called out, Alex, in the best way possible! I hadn’t given much thought to the subtle ways that the architecture of a park or a heart can create distance and encourage only fleeting, superficial connections. But I can see this has happened in me in some ways that I’m not comfortable maintaining. Thanks for gently shining a light on this opportunity to recalibrate!
Thank you for reading, Lori. I’m glad this piece resonated in this way. I wanted it to be a call for gentle introspection. Sometimes we might be comfortable with the architecture we have created—but my guess was that when we bring our attention to it, we will see it as an opportunity to recalibrate (or at least invite others to a different bench!).
This is great, Alex! I notice that tendency in myself, usually in retrospect, which means that each morning I have to vow anew to be more attentive, kind, mindful, and loving.
I believe that if we wish to foster openness, we must renew that intention regularly (maybe even every morning). Otherwise our world will, perhaps, close us to the experience.
What a deep reflection on oneself as well as the communities we live in. 💞
When I was a kid in the 1950’s, the talks across a neighborhood fence were encouraged. Staying in a community our entire lives was the norm. As was working for a local business or beginning one of our own.
I’m of the original hippie time. Being part of “free love” and commune life was what challenged the status quo. I didn’t join a tribe of nomads, but I did move to the other side of the country from where I grew up, it felt like something was calling me (as in the go west days). I’ve been on the west coast since 1991, and enjoy so much of it.
The reality of towns and cities creating uncomfortable benches dismays me. Yet, I imagine it may have evolved as a deterrent to homeless folks sleeping there.
I would love to find a balance within my world of going out to coffee shops to work and also to socialize, as well as having a neighborhood pub to call my own (like Cheers). Showing up to the same place over time, getting to know the staff and the regulars helps me look up and trust my safety. Yet as I read your post, I am much more aware that the recent political climate is determined to create mistrust, sew fear and claim that none of us are safe any longer. My hesitation to be completely open is growing. This brings a sadness that is heavy.
Thank you for such a lovely reflection in response to my essay. I appreciate the thought and vulnerability. I loved learning a bit more about you. Maybe someday I will share my one week of accidentally joining a movement of, essentially, commune nomads 😂
I think it is natural to be hesitant to be completely open. I definitely don’t think I am advocating for that in this essay, either. Complete openness, especially in this world at the moment leaves us a bit too vulnerable.
But one of the main reasons our brains grew and developed the way they did was to handle the increasingly complex demands required of them because of the social dimension of living. We need it. We need to connect to people. I think my call, in this essay, is for us to examine where we might be building architecture to keep us from connecting, even when we need it, and we know we need it.
It does bring me sadness. It makes my heart heavy. But one of the only ways I can see us moving through this time, is to begin to communicate authentically once again.
Gosh you write so beautifully! It’s like you’re giving my heart a warming cup of tea and cosy comfort. Thank you so much! It’s not so long ago I would have felt envious; today I notice Ive tilted towards being inspired. Hurray!
Thank you, Jane, for sharing so vulnerably (and for the kind words too!). Isn’t it so interesting how these structures exist, grow, but also change? How for you, at one point envy might have come forward but now inspiration rings true? I love how you shared it, because it reinforces my hope that our emotional tilt benches are truly changeable, we simply must recognize them and make a conscious effort to change them.
Oh dear. I think I may have some of those "Keep Out" signs more often than I care to admit. I do feel overwhelmed by, well... the world, really... and when that happens, I put up the signs or otherwise retreat into a cave with "No One Allowed In Here" clearly marked at the entrance. Am I happy with how things are, or can I put away some of those signs? You've given me something to think about, Alex! But on a completely non-metaphor note: who designed those park benches and what in the world where they thinking?!?
I’m glad I could give you something to think about! I think it’s important for us to have those moments to ourselves, but also to be conscious of how we might be, perhaps, keeping people out too often. We need to connect with others, just as others need to connect with us!
Alex, this is a wonderful reminder for all of us to think about how we might unintentionally be installing tilt benches in our homes, and with our body language. It has me thinking, that's for sure. I am not too bad with my phone, and I am constantly longing for people to make eye contact with me as I walk by (so many don't even look up!) but the "Sorry, busy!".... Ouch. Yes, I will watch that one.
Good morning, Alex. I’m glad this was my first read of the day. It is full of vulnerability and truth. And I think it is particularly important at this point in time because so many people are feeling the need to protect themselves more than ever before. And while that urge is not unwarranted, I still believe that building walls around ourselves is the wrong answer. It’s funny, but as I get older, I seem to be developing the muscles of expressing affection more openly. Or maybe that has something to do with having become a parent 21 years ago. I don’t know. I do know that connecting with other people almost always brightens my day, expands my horizons, and makes me feel more hopeful for the future. xo
Aww, I really appreciate you saying that and sharing all of that.
I agree with you. I think it is warranted and natural for people, right now, to go in defensive mode. But being in defensive mode (and offensive mode) for the past 20-30 years is why I think we are here right now, in this moment.
I feel like we all just haven’t been listening to each other. To our pain. To our stories. So we no longer talk to each other. And on the off chance we do talk to each other, we often don’t l.i.s.t.e.n. We don’t empathize because we can’t move past our beliefs to just recognize others as humans, with a right to their own pain.
If we could just share space more, laugh more, listen more, cry more, I think we would all be just a little happier.
Human connections just as you describe here in your response is at the core of my existence. I believe the importance of living here in this space where getting to know each other without labeling just seeing ourselves in each the other is how we were created to be. Sometime I think that has faded away, but then I read your post and realize it’s still very much here. And I’m glad for that glimpse of hope.
First off, yay! Your voice! Haha this was the first time I have listened to your voiceover (not sure if you do it for every post). I love the metaphors here and where you went with the idea of hostile architecture (I know we talked about this so I was really excited to read). Such great self-reflection oscillating between environment to self in this piece.
I've just started doing them in the past few articles! I'm glad you enjoyed it. So many people have remarked about it, that I've decided I'm going to continue doing it!
I'm glad you enjoyed the metaphor - It was fun to really develop it.
Alex, the mere fact that you question if you have tilt benches in your heart tells me that you likely have far fewer than most people do. The self reflection here shows self-grace and honest vulnerability.
Whenever I read your work I feel like I am listening to a really good friend.
I know we already are, and I want to ask out loud like a grad schooler with a beaming heart….will you be my friend??
I feel like we could spend hours on a filthy bench and find ways to be comfortable and giggly at the same time, cuz that’s what friendship and true connection is.
Hahaha, YES I will :) We could totally spend hours on a filthy bench (and that bench was pretty filthy, it had rained earlier that day too - probably another reason people weren’t sitting haha!).
I appreciate that - I have worked for many years on my tilt-benches, knowingly and unknowingly. I am much less tilty and cactus prickly nowadays 🩵 😂
I love your reply, Teri Leigh!
Alex,
First, I love your metaphors. "Hostile architecture" is a perfect phrase, albeit a pretty jarring one. As I read your piece today, I thought about the times I am out and about in my community and what happens when I "unplug" from my phone while I'm walking at the park or shopping at the store or waiting in line somewhere. To be clear: it is incredibly awkward for this introvert, but it is rewarding.
What I mean is that, because I'm not glued to my phone in a waiting room, I am more apt to notice the person who needs the door held open for them, and then I hop up to do it. My head is up, not down, so I am more inclined to make eye contact with strangers and smile at them. I'll notice details, like the decorations adorning an administrative assistant's cubicle, and spontaneously comment and compliment them.
People are generally surprised when I do this. Sometimes I surprise myself, because it's all unscripted, unplanned. I just respond to the moment I find myself in, and it doesn't feel comfortable for me, but I do it, because I know from experience how powerful these micro-moments of connection can be for others. I have received a lot of strange looks, startled and taken aback. I have received comments along the lines of, "Well, thank you. No one has ever said that before!" Or "Wow, I really appreciate your patience/politeness/kindness. We don't really get that very often around here." Etc.
When I was younger, I never realized the power of small moments of connection. I shied away from them, sticking to my familiar bubble of familiar people. But now I try to deliberately step outside of what is known and comfortable so that I can encounter all sorts of people.
And you know who taught me that? My very own Sarah. I have a story about Sarah going up to a man we learned was named Steve at a medical facility. At the time, Sarah approached everyone in waiting rooms. She was a little over two years old and just wobbled right up to some rando person, much to my horror. But every time she did it, the person would literally light up like a Christmas tree and tell me, usually with tears in their eyes, that Sarah's smile brightened their day, cheered them, sometimes after they'd received hard news.
That's the power of connection.
"People are generally surprised when I do this. Sometimes I surprise myself, because it's all unscripted, unplanned. I just respond to the moment I find myself in, and it doesn't feel comfortable for me, but I do it, because I know from experience how powerful these micro-moments of connection can be for others."
This.
There is something about that unplanned, unscripted, just human moment of connection. That little something of noticing and extending attention and care. Being deliberate. Being generous with our attention.
I'm always noticing things. I'm not always so good at sharing the little things I pick up about people. Sometimes, because I have found they don't want to know. HAHA!
I love your Sarah stories. The way she sees the world is how I wish we could all see the world. And it is likely why so many people would light up and respond the way they did. Such a pragmatic, kind, and beautiful innocence.
She has taught me far more about life and love than anything or anyone else, Alex. ❤️
Alex you ask the best questions. Can my tilt bench be the fact I don't want to look at my tilt benches?! 🙈 It's hard to admit where we shut others out. I definitely resonated with saying I'm too busy, when I might not be. I think for me, a big factor is probably a level of never feeling good enough, and so it's easier to pretend things are OK, even when it's hard. I'm much better at that now than I used to be, and I've realised the power of vulnerability in connecting with others, but if I'm totally honest, it's still there. Don't know if that'll ever completely go to be honest, but hey, we can try right?
Thanks for a great bit of writing, as always x
Hahaha - I’m sure you can have a tilt bench just for that!
I think i’m almost a pro at going to therapy now. 😂 There are still things I don’t want to talk about and tilt myself away from. I think it is SO normal. So yes, you can have a tilt bench AND, you can tighten it up so it no longer tilts. When you are ready :)
I think you are right - I bet some of these become defensives, tied to limiting beliefs. It brings up the memory of our conversation around perfectionism a few months ago - I could totally see perfectionism being a tilt bench - creating a set of behaviors that keep you busy and enmeshed in other things because you didn’t feel like you were enough. I think that is an interesting connection and something to think about.
Haha - i’m not sure those things ever go away, I just think we get better at managing them! We will someday be pros :)
YES to the link with perfectionism! So much easier to keep aiming for the best and berating ourselves than admit we're struggling 🙏
I feel lovingly called out, Alex, in the best way possible! I hadn’t given much thought to the subtle ways that the architecture of a park or a heart can create distance and encourage only fleeting, superficial connections. But I can see this has happened in me in some ways that I’m not comfortable maintaining. Thanks for gently shining a light on this opportunity to recalibrate!
Thank you for reading, Lori. I’m glad this piece resonated in this way. I wanted it to be a call for gentle introspection. Sometimes we might be comfortable with the architecture we have created—but my guess was that when we bring our attention to it, we will see it as an opportunity to recalibrate (or at least invite others to a different bench!).
This is great, Alex! I notice that tendency in myself, usually in retrospect, which means that each morning I have to vow anew to be more attentive, kind, mindful, and loving.
Thank you, Don!
I believe that if we wish to foster openness, we must renew that intention regularly (maybe even every morning). Otherwise our world will, perhaps, close us to the experience.
I appreciate you reading and also sharing. 🩵
I'll have to sit with this.
Haha get it? 🤣
Seriously though. What a concept.
Bwahaha - I see what you did there 😂
Just don’t launch yourself off a tilt bench :)
Thanks! I hope it provokes thought. We all need our “me time.” But we all need beautiful time with others.
Nodding my head in agreement - or is it the bench again? LOL
Haha! I’ll say… that wasn’t the bench this time! Haha!
What a deep reflection on oneself as well as the communities we live in. 💞
When I was a kid in the 1950’s, the talks across a neighborhood fence were encouraged. Staying in a community our entire lives was the norm. As was working for a local business or beginning one of our own.
I’m of the original hippie time. Being part of “free love” and commune life was what challenged the status quo. I didn’t join a tribe of nomads, but I did move to the other side of the country from where I grew up, it felt like something was calling me (as in the go west days). I’ve been on the west coast since 1991, and enjoy so much of it.
The reality of towns and cities creating uncomfortable benches dismays me. Yet, I imagine it may have evolved as a deterrent to homeless folks sleeping there.
I would love to find a balance within my world of going out to coffee shops to work and also to socialize, as well as having a neighborhood pub to call my own (like Cheers). Showing up to the same place over time, getting to know the staff and the regulars helps me look up and trust my safety. Yet as I read your post, I am much more aware that the recent political climate is determined to create mistrust, sew fear and claim that none of us are safe any longer. My hesitation to be completely open is growing. This brings a sadness that is heavy.
Thank you for such a lovely reflection in response to my essay. I appreciate the thought and vulnerability. I loved learning a bit more about you. Maybe someday I will share my one week of accidentally joining a movement of, essentially, commune nomads 😂
I think it is natural to be hesitant to be completely open. I definitely don’t think I am advocating for that in this essay, either. Complete openness, especially in this world at the moment leaves us a bit too vulnerable.
But one of the main reasons our brains grew and developed the way they did was to handle the increasingly complex demands required of them because of the social dimension of living. We need it. We need to connect to people. I think my call, in this essay, is for us to examine where we might be building architecture to keep us from connecting, even when we need it, and we know we need it.
It does bring me sadness. It makes my heart heavy. But one of the only ways I can see us moving through this time, is to begin to communicate authentically once again.
Baffling barriers,
foolish fences, wicked walls.
Wanderers welcome.
Thank you, Marisol. This is beautiful. I appreciate you sharing this with all of us 🩵
Gosh you write so beautifully! It’s like you’re giving my heart a warming cup of tea and cosy comfort. Thank you so much! It’s not so long ago I would have felt envious; today I notice Ive tilted towards being inspired. Hurray!
Thank you, Jane, for sharing so vulnerably (and for the kind words too!). Isn’t it so interesting how these structures exist, grow, but also change? How for you, at one point envy might have come forward but now inspiration rings true? I love how you shared it, because it reinforces my hope that our emotional tilt benches are truly changeable, we simply must recognize them and make a conscious effort to change them.
A great post Alex and thank you for sharing. Take care, Julian
Thank you, Julian! I appreciate you reading and being here! I hope you take care too. 🩵
Oh dear. I think I may have some of those "Keep Out" signs more often than I care to admit. I do feel overwhelmed by, well... the world, really... and when that happens, I put up the signs or otherwise retreat into a cave with "No One Allowed In Here" clearly marked at the entrance. Am I happy with how things are, or can I put away some of those signs? You've given me something to think about, Alex! But on a completely non-metaphor note: who designed those park benches and what in the world where they thinking?!?
I’m glad I could give you something to think about! I think it’s important for us to have those moments to ourselves, but also to be conscious of how we might be, perhaps, keeping people out too often. We need to connect with others, just as others need to connect with us!
Alex, this is a wonderful reminder for all of us to think about how we might unintentionally be installing tilt benches in our homes, and with our body language. It has me thinking, that's for sure. I am not too bad with my phone, and I am constantly longing for people to make eye contact with me as I walk by (so many don't even look up!) but the "Sorry, busy!".... Ouch. Yes, I will watch that one.
I’m glad you don’t have too many of my bad habits! Haha! The “Sorry, busy!” one is my absolute worst. Let’s endeavor to both do better 🩵
It’s a deal!
Good morning, Alex. I’m glad this was my first read of the day. It is full of vulnerability and truth. And I think it is particularly important at this point in time because so many people are feeling the need to protect themselves more than ever before. And while that urge is not unwarranted, I still believe that building walls around ourselves is the wrong answer. It’s funny, but as I get older, I seem to be developing the muscles of expressing affection more openly. Or maybe that has something to do with having become a parent 21 years ago. I don’t know. I do know that connecting with other people almost always brightens my day, expands my horizons, and makes me feel more hopeful for the future. xo
Aww, I really appreciate you saying that and sharing all of that.
I agree with you. I think it is warranted and natural for people, right now, to go in defensive mode. But being in defensive mode (and offensive mode) for the past 20-30 years is why I think we are here right now, in this moment.
I feel like we all just haven’t been listening to each other. To our pain. To our stories. So we no longer talk to each other. And on the off chance we do talk to each other, we often don’t l.i.s.t.e.n. We don’t empathize because we can’t move past our beliefs to just recognize others as humans, with a right to their own pain.
If we could just share space more, laugh more, listen more, cry more, I think we would all be just a little happier.
Human connections just as you describe here in your response is at the core of my existence. I believe the importance of living here in this space where getting to know each other without labeling just seeing ourselves in each the other is how we were created to be. Sometime I think that has faded away, but then I read your post and realize it’s still very much here. And I’m glad for that glimpse of hope.
Yes! I think sometimes it feels like it is fading away, but no, it is still here, it just feels distant sometimes. 🩵
I couldn’t agree more. 💜
First off, yay! Your voice! Haha this was the first time I have listened to your voiceover (not sure if you do it for every post). I love the metaphors here and where you went with the idea of hostile architecture (I know we talked about this so I was really excited to read). Such great self-reflection oscillating between environment to self in this piece.
Thank you, Cole!
I've just started doing them in the past few articles! I'm glad you enjoyed it. So many people have remarked about it, that I've decided I'm going to continue doing it!
I'm glad you enjoyed the metaphor - It was fun to really develop it.