The button.

I went with my son to see some of his friends and their parents for a socially-distanced picnic. We visited for a couple of hours, and then it was time to go. Normally we would have hugged and walked back to our cars, but instead we kind of stood awkwardly, trying to figure out what to do next. The absence of hugging left us with no ritual to close out our time together.

 

In theater, we talk about a scene having a “button.” It’s a moment or a beat that ends the scene, punctuates it in a way that drives home a thought or a laugh. It tells the audience that the scene is over. A button helps us finish one thing and move to the next.

 

People have talked and written a lot about the death of the handshake, and I think that’s probably right. But a ritual of acknowledging other people in a physical way at the beginning and the end of an encounter is pretty baked-in. It gives the experience a shape—it begins when we move into each other’s space with this handshake or high five or hug. It feels like we do this to say: “I’m here with you now. My attention is on you and what we’re doing together.” And when our time together is done, we release each other with another physical touch or acknowledgement.

 

My theory is that we need these rituals. They’re part of the rhythm of our lives. I’ll be curious to see what develops over time to replace or supplement them. What do you think? What are you seeing and experiencing?