Care to Dance?

I touch a light switch and the room is illuminated. Or I tell Siri to do it for me. It just happens. I don’t know or care what it takes to sustain this infrastructure. I don’t need to trim a wick, find a way to light it, make sure there’s enough oil, or clean the glass. No understanding is required. No accommodation to needs or peculiarities. No relationship. It’s the same with water faucets. No pump to prime, no handle to fiddle with. I don’t own a garden, but I’m told the tomatoes and green peppers turn out just like what the store brings me when I order from the app. I vaguely remember the satisfaction of knowing the grocery store layout and creating shopping lists that were efficient at getting everything I needed. And the store sought to place items logically. Peanut butter and jelly were always shelved together near the bread.  We had a relationship, each of us working to make things better. It was like dancing, like choreography. Now I tap what I want and I get it just like I want it.

I own two cars and they each have a manual transmission because they contribute to a relationship I still value. My cars have peculiarities and imperfections that make them alive to me. We work together and we dance, each adapting to meet the needs of the other. Imperfect and fun and satisfying. My next car will be an automatic because you can’t buy a stick shift anymore. People don’t want a relationship, they want obedience.

Which raises the question. Has the desire for obedience bled over and poisoned our personal relationships? I fear it has. The search for a perfect partner is futile, yet that’s what many want. I choose to take joy in the imperfect, the flawed, the peculiar. It creates the music that makes the relationship dance so fun. Toes might–no they will be–stepped on. Each misstep becomes a point of bonding, a chance to move deeper and closer. Technology has removed much of the bonding we once did with the machines and artifacts in our lives. Or maybe it’s my tendency to anthropomorphize. Either way, I always say thank you to Siri when she answers my questions, and she always says you’re welcome. I like that. I can always use another dance partner.