on being known

I LOVE knowing people’s names. I really do. I love it when people know my name, even if I still blush a little when I tell people my full name, or when people give a hearty chuckle when they hear my name. I feel like people know me when they know my name. It makes the world a little smaller, community a little more real. You could go all around town all throughout life without having anyone really know you, and the idea of that forms a pit in my stomach. We are wired to be relational to be with people, to be known. This is why isolation is greatest punishment. We NEED people.

Complex pathways of the brain and regulation of certain functions of our limbic brain makes expulsion from the company of others the cruelest punishment humans can devise. Studies have been done long ago on orphan children, finding that children NEED affection and emotional attention. Feed and clothe a human infant but deprive him of emotional contact and he will die. We are born with the innate need and desire to be known.

It’s not easy to be known; it requires vulnerability and risk. It’s not always something that comes easy. We hide ourselves for fear of truly being known and on the other end of the spectrum we have within us a deep desire to be known. We need it but we fear it. What does one do with that? I find myself hiding myself away at times for fear that people won’t like the real me and trying to be vulnerable hoping that people will like the real me, so much of life is lived somewhere in the space between.

I value community and that place where everyone knows my name. I like feeling at home with people. Take for example, my place of work, at the coffee shop; someone can come in everyday and we quickly stack up fleeting moments of interaction and all the while have no idea who the other is, but one day, a moment is taken to ask the name of the other. Once names are exchanged, it’s a whole new interaction as if the name is your “in” this allows you to ask questions, see who the other is. At least this has been the case with me, maybe I am a little nosy or curious, but I can’t help it. For me, it has that feeling of “yeah, we go WAY back.” Like an old friend. And even though that’s not the case, I like that feeling of seeing an old friend when they walk in the door.

I like going for a run in the neighborhood and passing my favorite old couple on the street with a smile and a wink. Or running into Steve who is giving his son a pep-talk on how to ride a bike even if it’s scary, or passing Lee and his co-worker out for a run along the riverfront. It’s the hellos I’m after, the community, the recognition of knowing and recognizing the we are all tied to one another.

We are all fellow travelers in this life. We’re all in this together.

names, faces...people, places

I've been working at the Dragonfly Coffee House for about a month now, and I really just love it. It feels like home there. I am getting to know people's names and quirks, which is really what I crave and love about working in a coffee shop.
It's more personal. It's more relational. It's something to work for and to work on.

One of the questions from the Myers-Brigss test asks a question, "The more people with whom you speak, the better you feel" yes or no. Even though I'm an introvert, I definitely answer, 'yes' to this question. If I were to go about my day, running errands and such, all over town without talking with a single person, I wouldn't really feel as though I actually had a day. I need people and conversation in my day to make it real and worthy of counting as a day.

It's funny, too, I remember telling a co-worker at the coffee shop I worked at up in Seattle,(Richmond Beach Coffee Company) my personality type and how I was an introvert, obviously. She immediately scoffed and said, "never in a million years would I dub you as an introvert." I was shocked; of all my letters, the "I" was the letter I was most positive was spot on. However, in thinking about it, in that environment, I knew everyone; their drink, their name, their car, their family, their morning hair and tired eyes...and they knew me. They brightened my day. They brought me birthday balloons, cards, dishes, money for my Malawi trip. They knew my name. I felt alive in that place. Just as I feel alive in Alaska, at camp and in Malawi with the kids.
I think certain places and people can bring out our best, bring glory out of our depths, calling us to more, to truly live. These are the places and people with which we belong.

I've been craving that sense of community lately, that sense of being known and being alive. It's been a little lonely in this city of bridges. I went to an event for a school project the other night. There were roughly 400 people or so...I'm really bad at guestimating, but it was something like that. I went by myself and felt so anonymous and nameless and alone; it was awful. Later in the night, I ran into another Social Work student, which was a life saver and made me feel a little less stranded, but the feeling stayed with me all night.
It's so easy to feel small in this big world, and I find myself grasping for anything that will make the world feel a little smaller, even if it's just asking someone their name.

p.s. I met another "Hannon" this weekend. This was monumental seeing as how I have never met another Hannon that I wasn't related to! And he's a talented singer-songwriter and one of the nicest guys, check him out, Dave Hannon.