I sit on the train next to you and I see you, eyes downcast, gazing in vacant unfulfillment at your phone as you read about someone else's life while your own heart sits ignored. Numb and forgotten.
As the train passes by your station platform, I see you standing there, oblivious to the person of your dreams who has just looked at you twice while you are eyes down, reading about someone else's love life on social media and you are wishing you had someone to love.
As I walk down the street, I watch you walking the footpath reading about someone else's story or gossip on your phone when you own story is all around you - it's breathing, it's living, it's moving - and it goes past you completely unobserved.
I see you at the café catching up with your friend. You are sitting across from each other at the same table - and neither of you give each other the gift of presence. You are both on your phones connecting to a virtual reality of non-existent connection instead of connecting with each other.
I see you both, parent and child, shoulder to shoulder on a seat on the bus in a rare moment of one on one time. You are both focused on gaming, social media or some other sensationalism or voyeriusm media, but your hearts are both craving some quality connection of light banter or conversation with each other. That precious heart to heart time as parent and child - the gift of being fully present. You let it go.
I see you. Life sees you. You don't see it and it is all bypassing you because your eyes are looking down at your phone into the virtual reality of a life and a world that is not yours.