Friendeavours

It’s time to dust off our social skills and relearn the rules of engagement

it was never going to be easy. Reconnecting. But as restrictions ease across Britain, we all have to get used to the new normal, without actually knowing how that new normal might pan out. Will we always ask, ‘Are we hugging or not hugging?’ from now until the end of time? Will we forever flinch when someone coughs?

I’m starting to see people I haven’t seen for a year IRL, and it’s emosh to say the least. Everyone has a story. Everyone has a loss. The spectrum of experience is vast – people have lost people, jobs, health, focus. It’s hard to gauge the level to go in at. Just like during lockdown, I once again find myself in a different emotional and social position to many of my friends. Some people want to meet at the park. Others think it’s too busy. Some friends want a coffee in a café; others fear the proximity to people, and drinking out of cups they haven’t washed themselves. It’s like we all need some kind of group therapy, and maybe that will partly come in the form of summer and sunshine.

I find myself apologising for my social ineptness when I meet people, half blaming it on tiredness from my new baby, half saying I’m still getting used to things like actual, real eye contact again. So intense! I went for lunch with a few friends the other day and couldn’t concentrate on anything anyone was saying because there was so much background noise. I found myself feeling frequently isolated, staring into my braised baby leeks. Come back Zoom, all is forgiven! Or do we need to adopt a few signs from Zoom code and insert them into real-life conversation as we ease back in? Raising a hand to speak, for example. Giving a thumbs up when you like what someone is saying. Otherwise, are we going to keep stumbling on a language barrier between digital and in-the-flesh interactions?

As friendships move back offline, there’s not only an emotional impasse but a practical one. In the real world, it’s harder to be late (OK, maybe I should just stop being late) or reschedule because people have actually left their homes and will be more inconvenienced. You can’t just ‘accidentally’ drop out of a chat when you’ve had enough (whoops, bad connection!). When it’s time to go, you can’t just press the red Leave button and say ‘Byebyebyebyebye’ in fast succession. Nor can you just pretend you’re needed in the other room. Was that the door? I think that was the door. Better check – don’t want to miss one of my 9,000 daily parcels! No such luck in real life. Oh no, then you have to work your way up to your exit. You have to perform some sort of elaborate leaving ceremony – involving getting up, putting your jacket on, walking out of somewhere without bumping into anyone. Take me back to my Zoom womb! It’s hard out here.

But it’ll all be worth it, I swear. The great thing about us humans is that we keep learning, and relearning, and relearning. Think of it as adaptation. Evolution, even. (Maybe we are part digital creatures now?) I’ll leave you with a quote from William Blake that I often draw comfort from: ‘Opposition is true friendship.’ Difference is an invitation to friendship rather than a barrier. An invitation to talk. To share. To process this crazy year, together. The older I get, the more I appreciate having friends who challenge me and require me to renegotiate my everyday. Or look at it this way: the careful, cautious bridges we build now will be the very fabric of the new normal.

‘ In real life, you can’t just “accidentally” drop out of a chat when you’ve had enough (whoops, bad connection!)’