We sometimes operate under the assumption that we are invisible, that for whatever reason our presence does not matter. As common a belief as this is, it is not true. Our presence matters. Showing up matters; it has impact. People notice us, whether we are aware of it or not. We may not be seen the same way we were at 25, but that is not the same as invisibility. Last night, we had our first AGEIST event in a long time. It is a busy season here in NY, with graduations, parties, art fairs, Mother’s Day, and early vacations — not an ideal time to have something like this. I am grateful that so many of you showed up, we got to meet, you got to meet each other — your presence mattered to me and to the others there. Showing up matters. I am not advocating for a life of frantically constant get-togethers — we all need time to be with ourselves — but we are fundamentally social. We simply cannot live without other people. Cooperation is our super power.
This week’s AGEIST profile, Joel Zuckerman, sends letters of gratitude, which is another way of being present — letting people know we care about them. As is just sitting and listening — especially to younger people. They see us intently. We are needed out there because we make an impact, whether we realize it or not. Going through life thinking we are invisible, that no one cares about us, sounds horribly lonely. We can help, as we have the ability to not just be seen but to see others, which can be extraordinarily powerful. We all want to be seen and heard, some to a greater extent than others. Lyn Slater told me a couple of weeks ago that she enjoys the anonymity of her new rural life — it is a relief from her influencer life of constant recognition. She also told me how important being with her family is. Chasing to be seen and heard by those that matter to her is not the same as feeling invisible.
Participation is essential for a good life. It can be at scale, it can also be between just a couple tight friends and family. We dial up and dial down the amount as needed, but going to zero will get us to a very weird place. There have been times, especially in my younger days, when I felt so painfully awkward that interaction with strangers, or even casual acquaintances, was deemed to be dangerous — they may find out how I feel about myself and agree with me. Yikes. Recently, I have heard many say they no longer care what people think of them; I am not one of these. I still care deeply. I want to be liked. I want to matter. Who knows, perhaps this is just emotional immaturity on my part, and that by age 85 I really won’t care. However, I don’t think so. I care about how people feel about me because I still believe I am not invisible, that I matter, and the impact I have out there is one that I want to be positive. Showing up requires effort; it requires investment in a relationship; it also requires a certain level of self confidence — not overwhelming self-centeredness, but the belief that we are each of value. If you know someone who feels on the other end of that spectrum, notice them, show up, be present, connect with them. It is good for them, and good for us. That shy kid still lives within me. We all have some of this, but it doesn’t have to stop us from reaching out. If we stay in our shells, we know what will happen: nothing. Reaching out is where the possibilities lie.
Onward and upward,
David