Connecting-Unplugged

I bumped into a friend I hadn't seen in awhile.


Having spent nearly six months working on a production, we saw each other regularly. Yet, following final bows our busy lives sent us off in different directions.  She was coming from the gym and I was avoiding it! We stood outside our favorite coffee shop sharing dreams for the year ahead like previews of upcoming attractions.


As I listened with interest and awe (for she looked like she had lost weight), people zipped by us in a flurry of activity. Most had an electronic device in their hand or ear and were engaged in pop-culture communication. Then it happened. My ears began to pick up the one sided responses like a medley.


Suddenly my friend's solo performance turned into a Broadway musical with a choir of vocalists threatening to upstage her. My eyes glazed over as I worked to place her back in the spotlight. All the while I prayed my struggle went unnoticed. A long blink served as a much needed black out which swept the others off the stage. 


It was a pivotal moment in the day: an authentic face to face conversation. I wanted to sip it slowly like my coffee. The Folgers jingle crossed my mind; "the best part of waking up...".


We laughed over the parallels in our lives (we're both mother's of teens), and inquired of summer vacations. I felt joy stretch across my face: this friend made my heart feel light and fresh. I realized how much I had missed our daily connection. Our surroundings became a fog as she shared stories of the past six weeks and how she had lost nearly twenty pounds. She had my full attention.


We hadn't moved in over twenty minutes. I don't mind standing. It burns more calories. Yet, I took notice of  a cozy set of empty chairs on the patio--three feet away--and mentioned we continue our impromptu visit in comfort. Sitting back against a plush pillow, I turned my phone off.


By the time our cups ran dry, we had enjoyed a wonderful hour long chat. A lot can happen over six weeks! We hugged one another good-bye, thankful for our "chance" encounter. And once again--as if on cue--an invisible curtain rose on the coffee shop's patio stage, revealing a company in a dramatic scene of multi-tasking.


As I walked back to my car, I checked my phone...three missed calls. I allowed the car to idle and chill while I joined the chorus line of cell phone performers. The small device felt cool to my hand which had been warmed by a dear friends grasp.