Connecting in a Zuckerberg world

The Social Network is one of my favourite movies. I relate to it because it’s a movie about connections, a deep seated human need to connect to others and find common ground in shared experiences. Mark Zuckerbeg understood that and created a tool that magnified it on a grand scale. Facebook has allowed us to connect in ways never imagined. But I also see it as a cautionary tale. The reality is that Zuckerberg spends most of his time NOT connecting in the real world. He eats sleeps, breathes Facebook and nothing else. He has created a network of over 500 million users but is known to spend 16 hour days at work staring at his computer. His single mindedness is impressive. It’s made him a very rich man and there is no doubt, his ‘invention’ has had a profound impact on our world. But the real world, with all its unpredictability and uncertainty is far more interesting. And here’s how I discovered that;

For a long time, all I could think about was having a baby. It was all that mattered. I was unhappy in my career, but it didn’t matter because I was going to be a mother. There was nothing more important to me. Nothing else mattered. I had put all my eggs in the proverbial basket.

When it didn’t happen, I had nothing else. I found myself isolated from friends who had kids. I felt like they were all part of a club whose membership I was denied. I longed to connect on that level and share in the experience of motherhood. The need to connect and experience what my mommy friends were experiencing was so powerful that it often made it impossible to be around them.

It was nobody’s fault. It was my human nature telling me that sharing common experiences was very important to me. It also meant that I was far more complex than my ability to reproduce.

Slowly but surely, I found ways to connect beyond my reproductive instincts! I began to see the beauty and magic in the new bright little people that are now part of our amazing group of friends. I have marvelled at their growth, discovered what makes them laugh, and can’t wait to discover who they grow up to be.

I will never stop valuing the importance of human connection. Nic and I recently saw U2 perform live in Montreal. It was a magical, almost spiritual experience. Listening to one of the greatest bands of our generation with 80,000 people is indescribable, a once in a lifetime event. That night I forgot about the year’s difficulties, the setbacks, all of life’s unfair realities.

Nic took this photo that night. I’ve looked at it often. I like to think that those 80,000 people helped remind me of what’s important.

The Voice

I like trying new things. That said trying new things means I am often confronted with equal amounts of excitement and fear. They say that’s healthy. I say that’s annoying.

I participated in my first triathlon this past Saturday. It was an incredible experience, far more mental than physical. When it was over, I was elated, blown away by the idea that I had it in me to do it.

But it almost didn’t happen.

The night before, I was overwhelmed by fear. Fear of the unknown.. I’m comfortable with road races; I know what to expect. Show up, pick up race kit, eat a good breakfast, get dressed, show up at the start line, run, cross the finish line, eat a bagel.

This time around, I didn’t know what to expect. Would I get elbowed in the water? Would I find my bike? Would I accidently get disqualified? I was so scared of the unknown that I almost talked myself out of competing. I convinced myself that it was easier to quit than to live through the unknown.

The same almost happened with IVF. When we first found out it was our only way to conceive, I was naïve about the process. When I better understood the procedures and risks, I panicked. I was scared about changes to my body, scared about not controlling the outcome, scared of the impact on my marriage. I resisted and tried to convince myself that it was safer to quit than to live through a process fraught with unknowns and changing circumstances. I could avoid pain, sadness and stress by not going through with it. I could find comfort in the voice that tells me to avoid the risk.

I didn’t play it safe this weekend. I competed, I pushed myself, I surprised myself and I lived a very unique experience. I’m grateful that I ignored that voice who wanted me to play it safe.

I’m thankful that I ignored it again when I agreed to put my body in the hands of science in the hopes of having a baby. It took a leap of faith, and a belief that no matter what happens; it pays to lean into life.

These two experiences, albeit, very different in nature have changed me. That voice isn’t silent, I expect to hear from it soon, but it’s going to a pleasure to tell it that I’m too busy to talk this time.