Zombie Invasion
I saw two on the street yesterday, slack jawed and shuffling shoulder-to-shoulder with vacant stares. Before I could blink a third zigzagged by on a bike. I slammed on the brakes. Aware. Scared.
I shouldn’t be surprised. We’ve watched the insouciant invasion ooze in. Zombies are all over the place.
I’m not talking predictable B-movie zombie or trendy pub-crawl zombie. I’m not talking classical theatrical zombie or even creepy make-you-scream haunted mansion zombie.
I’m talking terrifying regular everyday zombies. The zombies that walk among us. You know the ones. You see them too.
Evidence: Bike Zombie Dude
Pedaling obliviously, hands free, in a winding trajectory down the middle of the street. Wearing headphones, but not a helmet. And texting. From my near-miss perspective, car swerved up onto a curb to avoid crushing him, hyperventilating in gratitude, I realized that everyday zombie is a habit-forming behavior pattern.
The everyday zombie is distracted, single minded and selfish, feverishly focused on one thing, feeding the big emptiness.
The Big Emptiness
We all feel it from time to time, the tidal tug of the big emptiness. We each have our own name for it. Lonely. Overwhelmed or exhausted. Disenfranchised, unchallenged, or detached. The big emptiness seeps in when we are under-resourced or alone, whispering insinuations in our ear that it would be easier to give in.
If we give in to the big emptiness, we give up on human interaction.
Don’t give in. Don’t give up. Inoculate. Here’s how:
1. Avoid Brain-Eaters
Zombies are easily identified by the iconic flat brain-eater stare. Your flat thing? Brain-eater. Too long staring at a flat thing turns off your face. You slip into an invertebrate slump. When your flat thing starts eating your brain, take a break and expand your focal length beyond the virtual. Get something real in your field of vision.
Further, if you are hanging with people who are brain-eating bummers, go sit with someone else at lunch.
2. Register a Passionate Pulse
When you think about it, the zombie model is a flatline whine of “I’m empty. I need.” If you are at the edge of the big emptiness, don’t stare into the abyss. Jump start your heart, get up your gumption, and use your powers for good. Be curious. Make yourself useful. Serve. Volunteer. Help.
3. Make Words with your Wordhole
Zombies get a bad rap for a vocabulary limited to moaning and monosyllabic mumbling. Speak clearly. Speak eloquently. Speak up. Make words until you can make a story that will make a difference. Be an ambassador and an advocate.
4. Put Some Pep in Your Step
Zombies are stinky, because they are decaying. Don’t desiccate. Stand up straight. Move faster than is convenient or comfortable. We know a body in motion stays in motion, so shake your groove thing, get up from your desk or out from behind the counter or out on the town and interact with other humans, live and in person.
5. Notice People Notice You
Human. Interaction. People see us. They watch us to see: “What are you doing? How do you do that? What can I learn from you?” That’s why we’re here. We teach by what we demonstrate. You are the boss, the parent, the teacher, the partner.
Every day is rich in boldface opportunities to convert petty transactions into socially profitable interactions. Be fearless and look another person in the eyes. Be interested and interesting. Be responsive and respectful.
Be ready.
Then, if the zombies really do come, you won’t be one.
Photo credit: Dave Wendelberger for Michigan State University Department of Theatre’s production of William Shakespeare’s Land of the Dead
“Flat things.” “Word hole.” How I <3 you miss inoculator!