It’s a time-honored question: how was your day? We ask each other, wanting to know, but also a little afraid to know. We don’t really want the blow-by-blow narration — first I woke up, then I brushed my teeth, then…
No, we want the highlights.
And we want them to be interesting, or funny. We’d rather that they not be difficult to absorb, challenging of our own lives, or sad. Especially we would rather they not be sad.
What we most want is affirmation that, even if we had a crappy day ourselves, someone somewhere had a decent day. Moved the world forward. Or at least their life. Accomplished something. Found a bright spot, something to show for their effort, the way a diamond emerges from the gem cutter–rough stone now faceted and gleaming.
So it’s not so much the truth we want, as a bright spot in an otherwise potentially confusing world.
That’s why, when the tables are turned, we dumb it down or lie.
- Nothing major happened.
- Just another day.
- Another day, another dollar.
We paste smiles on our faces, and say everything’s fine. Even when visiting a doctor, and asked how we are, we often say fine thanks, how are you without even thinking about it. Habit. And then have to backtrack to say, well, actually I’m bothered by…and then explain what brought us into the office.
It’s a shame, really, because it prevents deeper connection.
The poet Muriel Rukeyser, in her poem about artist Käthe Kollwitz, wrote:
What would happen if one woman told the truth about her life?
Muriel Rukeyser, “Käthe Kollwitz” originally in the collection The Speed of Darkness (1968)
The world would split open
And definitely we are afraid of our world splitting open. And, let’s face it, when you’re getting dinner ready and getting a kid to focus on homework, it isn’t exactly the time or place for the deepest of connections.
Plus, glossy little lies act as social lubrication
They smooth the way, allow I’m fine, how are you to take the place of hey, nice to see you.
Maybe we should just say, hey, nice to see you instead of speaking in code. (Of course, that would undermine the value of social media, where we can pick and choose how we represent ourselves just like we do in everyday conversation.)
Bottom line, meaningful truth is hard
It requires us to know our own selves on demand, at the moment of interaction. To be fully present and knowledgeable.
Most of us aren’t great at summing up our own truth(s). Especially on short notice.
No one cares if I sent thirty-eight emails today or reserved a conference room. The facts aren’t all that important. But the distillation of those facts into something of deeper truth isn’t all that easy, takes time.
If I took a stab at what such a distillation might sound like, it would be something like the prose poem below, “How was Your Day?”
How was Your Day?
Today was a day of acronyms and administrations. You think I mean political and what I meant was the rough oppression of what must be in order to make what is wanted to potentially happen.
Like what must be in terms of practice and sweat if one is to become an NBA star. But in this case the acronyms are for government agencies and university departments and investment devices and there’s the veterinarian and the dentist and the checking account.
Happenstance we undertake such hopefulness in the daily accounting. Happenstance we lay the stepping stones to someday. Happenstance we make the effort soon enough far enough fair enough long enough.
Today was a day the calculator was necessary and the pen and paper and two computers and the internet. Or internets. What if the internet was like the night sky and all the impulses we sent out amongst it made the constellations?
Today I created Orion from out of nothing but my intentions. Today I sent him out among the webnet to do my bidding. We call it AI we call it instructions we think we do these things ourselves.
So that was the day I had.
It doesn’t roll off the tongue. It doesn’t come out on a moment’s notice. It doesn’t do for a quick interaction in the hallway or the kitchen. It’s just one of those things, one of those days. You know, probably like the one you had yourself.
If you enjoyed How was Your Day?
You’ll find more of my poems on this blog or in the collection Stars Crawl Out From Their Caves, which is available in both ebook and print.
Missed a poem of the week? Links to prior weeks are on this page.