The Covid-19 pandemic has drastically altered our relationship with the social world. It has separated us from family and friends and has forced us to shift how we interact with one another. Work meetings have moved to Zoom conferences, happy hours are now held over FaceTime, and kisses to loved ones can only be given via Emoji. Less hectic schedules have allowed many of us to increase our interactions with others, enabling us to develop friendships and reconnect with those who we had lost contact with. In a sense, distance has brought us closer together.
Through tragedy, our love and appreciation for both friends and strangers have grown. It has cultivated our sense of community in a time where political polarization and contrasting global visions are pulling us apart. We’ve seen cities such as Madrid, New York, and Paris take to their balconies to clap in honor of those on the front lines. Balcony DJs have filled neighborhoods with club vibes. Delivery drives have taken extra effort when delivering packages to at-risk households. Most honorably, medical professionals have put their lives at risk to save those of others.
Separation has brought us together and has forced us to recognize the little things which we had been taking for granted. This newfound appreciation leaves us looking to brighter days when distance is eliminated and we can once again be physically present in the company of others. To summertime brunches, happy hours, pool parties, and barbeques. To late nights around a fire, lake days, and road trips to adventure. The more time we spend apart, the more we anticipate the opportunity to gather once again.
This collective feeling of longing has manifested into a nostalgia for past gatherings. Posts and stories on social media honor memories with captions of “take me back” and “can’t wait to be here again.” Many can’t wait to flock back to the places they love with the people they love; to reignite the traditions which have been put on halt. However, for some, including myself, this period of isolation has brought about a different feeling. My feeling of longing doesn’t quite evoke similar themes of return and nostalgia. I don’t quite look forward to going back to the places and things of before. Rather, this period of separation has produced a desire to create new traditions.
Before the crisis, I had been feeling stuck in a cycle of gatherings that lacked depth and excitement. Hangouts felt like rituals chasing the magic of past moments and constantly failing to live up to expectations. Conversations felt like actors reading from scripts I had heard hundreds of times before. Topics of conversation felt recycled; uninspiring, unstimulating, and bland. I found myself in the same place with the same people doing and talking about the same things. Gatherings lacked the excitement of unfamiliarity and the fulfillment of depth. They felt routine, following unimaginative ebbs and flows. I often found myself half-heartedly going through the motions of being in the moment.
This period of isolation brought this feeling of disenchantment to the forefront of my thoughts. Combined with the increased sense of appreciation, longing, and anticipation radiating across the globe right now, it led me to consider this question:
How can I make the most of my future gatherings?
I was inspired to set out to discover how I could create better, more meaningful interactions when the time for gathering returns. So, I turned to Priya Parker's The Art of Gathering, a book which had been on my shelf for a few years that I hadn’t been motivated to open until now. In reading Parker’s book I was forced to step back and consciously consider what it means to gather. I thought about why my past gatherings had become dull and how they felt like missed opportunities. In reading and reflecting, I discovered that I had lost sight of why I gather. I've always loved meeting people and learning about their life experiences through stories; listening to tales from their childhood, learning of their future goals, and reflecting on the parts of their lives that impact who they are. I enjoy conversations beyond elevator pitches and chit-chat that allow me to get to know a person more deeply. I've always invited topics of conversation that are challenging, controversial, and complex, for it is those conversations that inspire me and allow me to connect with others beyond trivial commonalities. With established friends, I cherish opportunities to celebrate the friendships that positively impact my life by acknowledging them and strengthening them. For me, that means having intimate conversations about life. It means engaging in challenging and honest dialogues about the world around us. Those interactions are underlined by the removal of social norms and a meeting of true identities. It's the comradery and connection of such interactions that make gatherings fulfilling. Unfortunately, I had lost sight of my purposes and allowed my gatherings to be hijacked by drowsy mediums, confined to tiresome environments, and invaded by individuals with contrasting purposes. I developed a habit of labeling gatherings by where we were going or what we were doing; going to brunch, going to happy hour, hosting game nights. These labels focused on the where and the what rather than the why. This habit of lazily defining my purpose left it open for interpretation. Each person had to navigate a gathering with their own goals in mind. This often resulted in a room of unsure individuals scared to impose upon one another. When a consensus of purpose didn’t naturally manifest, the gathering defaulted to uninspiring stereotypes. Game nights became about the games and brunches became more about “creating a vibe” and getting an Instagram-able picture; hollow distractions from connection and conversation. Environments carry cultural markers that determine which behaviors are appropriate. Like a church or a football game, locations of gathering carry norms that dictate how we interact. These norms are established by us as individuals, by our groups, and by societal benchmarks. Movie theatres aren’t the environment for deep conversations just as dinner parties aren’t for dancing on tables. By failing to commit to a purpose, gatherings default to uninspiring norms. Part of my struggle to escape the default was that I was always in the same places. Familiar places may serve as time-honored traditions, but they naturally entice us to recreate moments of past gatherings, especially when we visit them with the same people. We may have favorite happy hour spots, but if that outing has become a routine spot for post-work rants and venting sessions it becomes difficult to shift group dynamics and alter the dynamics of gathering. Locations had become rigid and I felt that I couldn't change my interactions even if I wanted to. Part of the environment is also who is present. Because my gatherings had come to focus on location and activity, it mattered less who attended. This opened the door for gatherings to be invaded by individuals with contrasting goals. When we clearly define why it leads us to realize that gatherings aren’t about bringing everyone together, it’s about bringing the right people together. If we want to have a gathering that fosters insightful conversations on unique topics, invite a diverse group of people who have various bits of knowledge and expertise. If we want a gathering that allows everyone to let loose, invite the fun and inclusive friends that inspire everyone to contribute to the life of the party. Creating the right environment sometimes requires us to be selective and to take risks that break from norms. I had stopped taking risks. The creative adventures that produced some of my favorite memories and developed many of my friendships were replaced by tiresome routines. I gathered simply for the sake of gathering and became more worried about where and what rather than why. Environments became too familiar and I often found myself surrounded by individuals who I didn’t care to be around. The people who I truly enjoyed spending time with became side characters in an insignificant mission; buried by a cycle of uninspiring gatherings. All this said I don’t mean to imply that those ranting happy hours, cute brunches, and gatherings with strangers are meaningless. Contrarily, they are necessary, for they serve important social purposes. These types of interactions are gateways to acquainting ourselves with others. They allow us to gather mindlessly when we are too mentally spent to initiate deeper interactions. I only use these examples because they are common ones that many, including myself, can relate to. I also don’t mean to imply that all relationships need to be developed, for sometimes we intend to keep certain relationships nondynamic or surface level. We all have friends that are solely our party friends, work colleagues, or study buddies. Not every new acquaintance is our next soulmate or best friend. However, if we are to better develop the relationships we wish to and make the most of our time with others, we have to escape cycles of uninspiring routines. If we don't we will struggle to create more dynamic relationships that extend beyond a single type of interaction. It is about striking a balance between mindful and mindless gathering. Soon we will flock to backyards, patio bars, and the homes of our friends. We will reunite with friends, family, and coworkers and meet some new people along the way. Most critically, we will again be completely immersed in the fast-flowing pace of social life; a pace that makes change difficult. It will be easy for our built anticipation to drive us back to familiar places with familiar faces and back into cycles of routine. However, we can also channel that anticipation to create new traditions that capture the sense of love, appreciation, and community that we feel in this moment. To develop our friendships, embark on new and inspiring adventures, and establish more fulfilling traditions. All we have to do is ask ourselves why we gather.
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