Stop Wearing Headphones In Public
Tuning out every part of our life surely won't end well.
Traveling is refreshing. It reminds me of Cosmic Insignificance Therapy. As the plane ascends, I realize how small I am. It comes as a relief almost. I am a mere blip in human history and a spec on earth. It is enlightening because the pressure, embarrassment, and ridicule I fabricate are created by me. Ascending into the clouds shows the world’s beauty. How vast and expansive it is. The need to enjoy it and detach from technology becomes clear. There is too much beauty to be engulfed by your phone. I need to interact with other humans, enjoy the sounds of nature, and be present. It’s why I run without headphones. I want to detach and enjoy nature.
Last week, I was in Los Angeles with a friend visiting some of my people. Typically, I spent the mornings alone. My friend and sister had obligations to fulfill before the fun began—plenty of time for me to explore. By exploring, I mean running to different places.
On Saturday morning, I was eager to run. I am running more to prepare for Hyrox, a fitness competition that combines running and functional workouts. A quick, 1-mile jog landed me on a beach path where the waves crashed into the shore while the city slowly woke up. It was perfect.
It was a brisk morning, a little cooler than I desired. I didn’t know LA to be this cool in October. I ran from my hotel to the beach path. The shops that lined the beach were slowly setting up. More people began to flood the path walking, biking, and running. The path was a welcomed break from my typical route. I slowly inched along the path to a smooth, eight-mile adventure before I returned to the hotel.
I arrived and hopped in the elevator, headed to our room, and whipped out my phone. I was gross, sticky with sweat, and in need of a shower. I pulled up the hotel app to unlock the room with our digital key. Except, I lost access to the key when we switched to a new reservation for the weekend. The room was under my friend’s name and in the weekend excitement, I didn’t get key access.
To make matters worse, he was surfing without his phone. I would be waiting for an unknown amount of time, great. I was banished to the lobby.
In the lobby, I sat in a chair that surrounded a coffee table. I scrolled Twitter and caught up on my texts. It quickly got boring. Ohio State and Nebraska played football on the TV. It left much to be desired. The score at the half was 14-6. I had no headphones to listen to a podcast or music. They were locked in my room. I refuse to run with them. It kills the run, and I want to hear any cars. My options for entertainment were low. I decided to sit there and think. Weird? Maybe.
I felt out of place. Would people be judging me since I wasn’t on my phone? Sitting there daydreaming into oblivion? A lady across from me carried on her speakerphone conversation in a different language showing her Halloween costume to a friend. This could be a long wait, I thought. I was stuck listening to someone’s conversation, and a boring football game occupied the TV.
Until Charles walked up and struck up a conversation.
I looked inviting. Still sweaty but daydreaming with zero stimulation. He asked me why I was in LA. We discussed where we were from, our jobs and careers, and the typical conversation starters. He was from St. Louis but had lived in LA for 15 years. He began to litter me with the recommendations for St. Louis if I ever go. He was at the hotel for a day trading seminar, which made me uptight. I was convinced he had something to sell me, but luckily, I realized I wasn’t his next sales pitch and relaxed. We discussed how he misses White Castle, the World Series, and how I liked the Midwest. It was a welcome sight. I was stuck. A conversation with a stranger kept it interesting. The conversation was better than anything my phone had to offer me.
This would never have happened if I had headphones in. An epidemic of always putting our headphones in is here. Life is tuned out. People wear headphones when they drive, grocery shop, and go to bars. Charles, while great, isn’t the icing on the cake for my headphone-less adventures.
During my senior year of college, I went to Fort Myers Beach with friends. There were remnants of a COVID society. We were forced inside and six feet apart more than we wanted. When my friend invited us to the beach, it was a relief.
Kentucky played Tennessee in football that Saturday. A huge day for a University of Kentucky student, maybe our most hated rival. We headed to a bar to enjoy some food and drinks during the game. Kentucky was unranked. Tennessee was 18th in the nation.
The game was settled quickly. Kentucky led 27-7 late in the third quarter. My friends, itching to go to the beach, left. I hung back and relished in a Kentucky win. I moved to the bar proudly donning my Kentucky gear, and sat next to an older gentleman.
My fandom was a conversation starter. It was rare to find Kentucky students on a Florida beach during a random October weekend. We began discussing the game and landed on my post-graduation plans. I was a senior applying for full-time jobs, but nothing was set. It was COVID, hiring was tough, and I had no idea what I wanted to do.
I slowly learned he was a respected ESPN personality with connections around Fort Myers Beach. Later, I discovered he wasn’t just anybody, he had a Wikipedia page. I told him about my degree and desire to work in finance. He handed me his business card to email him my resume. He would forward it on to connections at wealth management firms nearby. Perfect, I thought.
I emailed him my resume. He sent it off to his connections. I was sitting pretty. Ultimately, it didn’t prove to be fruitful but regardless, it was a success. It would have never happened had I not spoken to strangers or wore headphones in public.
Even though I didn’t land a job or make a lifelong friend—both situations were a success. It is special. A man put his reputation and word on the line for a random kid he met at the bar. I met a guy I will never see again, but he made it enjoyable to be stuck in a hotel lobby with nothing to do.
Relationships with the people around us determine how “wealthy” we are. Studies found that the effect of poor relationship quality on mortality is as strong as the effects of smoking and alcohol use and even stronger than other factors, such as loneliness. Our relationships don’t grow stronger with friends, family, or strangers with headphones in, tuning the world out.
It’s drifted too far. Wearing them at the gym is fine, but on walks with others, hanging out with friends, or while running is unnecessary. The world is becoming increasingly lonely. This only exacerbates it.
Pull out the headphones. Let the sounds of the world fill your life. Stop tuning out everything. Keep some things normal. Sit there and stare into oblivion, listen to your thoughts, stop catastrophizing, wonder what the infinite mystery of life is, or strike up a conversation with an interesting human. Enjoy the sounds of life. Life is better that way.
-Scantron
Appreciate you making it this far.