Hearing voices

[photo by Mia McCullough]

Friend, our closeness is this:
anywhere you put your foot, feel me
in the firmness under you.
— Rumi, tr. Coleman Barks

Today Dave Cohen, Jeff's BFF who texts like an adolescent, texted and I called him. I told him he can text me but to expect a phone call in return. I knew he would give me holy hell, in a nice way, and he did.

But we had a nice conversation — and it was SO GOOD to hear the voice of my friend. So much better. Because if I can’t hear you — I may misinterpret what you are saying. Recently I heard a statistic that 40% of what is said (or was it 60?) in e-mail is not understood the way it is intended.

Yesterday Mark Canizaro texted me and I wrote him back a short one. Felt like I was taking a drink. I won’t do that again this year. Just receiving texts, which I receive very few of and only from certain people, feels a bit like cheating on this experiement, so I’m owning up. The only one I can text in and out with is Jeff — and only when necessary. Like "Where are you? We're by the T-Rex."

It feels good to take control of communications this way.