The Forgotten Joy Of Interruption
I placed myself in the middle of the coffee shop. That just so happens to be the place where the most comfortable seating is for reading. My coffee was hot and the chair was beginning to warm, as it was conforming to me resting in it. Anticipating the wisdom that I would glean, I cracked open the new book that I’ve been reading. I was mid-sentence a third of the way down on the page, when it happened. An older woman’s cackle followed by her entire party’s swell of laughter filled the room. I wasn’t directly beside them or close enough to hear the story being told. But there was no doubt that this older woman’s tale was the main culprit to the disturbance. The impulse to put my AirPods in to listen to a movie score and finish my chapter immediately crossed my mind. I’d be lying if I didn’t just want to look up briefly with a passive aggressive stare, meant to send the clear message, “You know, you’re not the only ones in this coffee shop!”. I could have treated this moment as an obstacle to overcome. It could have been the thing that was robbing me of my true intent of being there that day. But something drew my gaze a little longer. Something ancient. Something that is not bound to schedule, efficiency, or our self-proclaimed plans. It was Interruption.
Trying not to be too intrusive (or creepy) I was drawn into this scene. Through my extensive travel experience, I’d like to think that I have become an expert people watcher. At least I’ve risen above the novice level. So, it didn’t take long for my book, which I was heavily enthralled by, to become nothing more than a prop, so my real examination could continue. I wasn’t interested in snooping in on the finer points of the conversation. From my vantage point, it would have taken an expert lip reader anyways. No, it was the image of it all. She had short, solid white hair. Makeup that was precise, yet not overstated, as to not take away from her thick-framed stylish glasses. The ladies surrounding her were diverse in age and ethnicity. I found myself filling in the blanks of their stories. Call it writer’s impulse. Their laughter continued along with leanings into the table and into each other as her story rolled on. No doubt her story was striking a unifying chord. One thing was clear, they were all there for her. That ancient presence sidled up to me in that loud coffee shop and said, “You’re here for her too.”.
This moment seemed so singularly mine. I took my intermittent gaze off of them and began to look around. Surely others were seeing what I was seeing. It was an image that no Instagram post could fully capture. It was a laughter deep that no comedic podcast could manufacture. It was a friendship so real no “buddy” movie could replicate. It was a moment so brief, yet lasting, that no reel could encapsulate. The coffee shop was full that day. Just over my left shoulder, an unconventional job interview was being conducted. College students with their headphones on were everywhere deep in study for exams. There were people on their phones allowing distraction to take the place of interruption. No one was going to allow this interruption to break their stride.
Isn’t it funny how we value distraction over interruption? They both take away from what our perceived purpose or intent is. Yet we embrace distraction and reject interruption. This is no more clearly on display when interruption interrupts our distraction. It is probably because distraction comes on our terms and in our time frame. It allows us to get lost in something new. It is far from the ancient nature of interruption. Distraction is juvenile. Simplicity is its calling card. You don’t have to think about it too much. That’s the point and the appeal. Interruption is as foundational and ancient as life itself. Because it is life. Right in front of you. Not the caricatures found and projected in forms of media. We go looking for distraction but interruption finds us. Unfortunately, we have found a home in distraction and interruption has become an unwelcome guest. It doesn’t have to be that way though.
Before I took the last sip of my now lukewarm coffee, her story had ended. The laughter faded and their embrace of goodbye began. They cleared their table and packed up their things. Nearly everyone in the coffee shop cheered internally through their side glances, as they were headed out the door. Now, they could get on with their purpose unfettered by the commotion. But first, a quick glance at their notifications.
I ran into an old friend grabbing a quick bite to eat before he headed back to work. He asked me what I was doing there that day. I looked up at him with an unexpected smile and answered,
“I came for the interruption.”
