The era of connection, communication and collaboration doesn’t change this fact: we are alone with our insecurities.
We can send and receive messages instantaneously. I can video call friends and family on the other side of the world for free, anytime I want. But despite the amazing powers that technology has given us, we’re still just as alone and isolated as we’ve ever been.
We all feel sadness. We all endure bouts of anxiety and restlessness. We all know what it feels like to worry about what the future holds. We all know the taste of fear. Over the course of millenia, these things haven’t changed. The feelings we humans feel today are just as raw and intense as those of our ancestors. But the difference is in the tools we have to deal with them.
We can become members of communities and groups whose sole purpose is to offer support. We can turn up reams and reams of information about practically any ailment. But none of this can vanquish our problems.
These things, these tools, these communities and support structures? They’re like corner men in a boxing match. We are the fighter. In between rounds, we return to our corner, where our cuts are mended and our strategies are assessed. But we can’t stay there, we can’t linger. Soon, the bell rings and a new round begins. A new episode in which we must leave the corner men behind, step back into the ring and fight our opponent. The opponent who is nameless, shape-shifting, but ever-present as long as humanity lives.
We can have the greatest corner men in the world, but eventually, we, the fighters, must step back into the ring and trade blows with those terrible foes: our insecurities.