Despite the recent proliferation of social networks, mobile gadgets, chat rooms, internet forums, and online communities in today’s crowded, post-modern, technological world, it has become more difficult than ever to engage in truly meaningful discussion with others. It’s the strangest thing: I could be in a movie theater, a grocery store, an airport, or on the main street of one of the largest cities in the world, surrounded by dozens, or hundreds, or even thousands of people – and yet, not engage a single person in a meaningful discussion.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact that we are so physically and psychologically exposed out there in the physical world and that our weaknesses and our vulnerabilities are so obvious and unprotected. Maybe it has something to do with our fear of “reaching out,” of becoming “too intimate,” of accepting responsibility for starting a relationship that we believe may ultimately become a burden or a failure. Maybe it has something to do with the knowledge that in the physical world, although we can play pretend for a little while, we must in the end – and at all costs – accept and love ourselves for who we are, equipped as we are with all of our physical, emotional, and intellectual strengths and weaknesses.

In other words, maybe it has something to do with the fact that out there, in the real world – the physical world – no-one can be anonymous. When we come face to face with other people, we are identifiable by our flesh, by our facial characteristics, by our mannerisms, by our ethnicity, by our clothing, and by our choice of companion. Communication out there in the open is immediate and subtle. Judgments are made subconsciously and thoughtlessly. Like well-oiled machines, every one of our senses has been honed to assess, to evaluate, and to ascertain the intentions of the people who surround us. Regardless of our incredible capacity for compassionate behavior, we are – every single one of us – constantly wary of one another, vigilant, and on guard, like predators in the wild competing for space, food, water, and mating companions.

Maybe it has always been this way, but somehow, my intuition tells me otherwise. Somewhere in my recent memory, I recall a time when people actually spoke to one another in person or over the telephone. We looked forward to meeting our loved ones over coffee, pastries, or cold frosted soft drinks, and we ran to the phone in anticipation of hearing from our friends, lovers, and relatives overseas. We would sit anxiously by the telephone waiting for that boy or girl in our class to call our homes to ask us out to the dance or to the movies, and although it might seem strange (and awkward) to our current generation of teens, some of us even wrote carefully handwritten letters - to express our joy and our affection to our friends and lovers - which would be sealed in perfumed envelopes and sent off to their exotic or not so exotic destinations.

Only ten years ago, very few of us disseminated information exclusively through digitally processed bits of text posted to a cell phone, to a social network, or to any one of the innumerable instant messaging platforms that exist today. Instead, we had no choice but to look at one another – in the eyes – and to engage in conversation, to invite one another into our personal spaces, to touch one another’s hands, arms, and shoulders in an effort to reassure, to explain, to persuade. And while I will admit that many of these conversations could only be characterized as superficial and often inconvenient small talk, every once in a while, we did manage to eke out an intimate discussion with a significant or not so significant other about politics, philosophy, movies, music, relationships, family, parenting, work, school, or about any other topic of the day.

These days, instead of interacting with others in a physical space over wine, coffee, milkshakes, or ice cream, we Skype, we chat, we Tweet, we re-Tweet, we post, we blog, we comment. Despite many efforts on the part of well-intended individuals, companies and organizations, meaningful discussion, for all intents and purposes, rarely takes place online. And while we continue to congregate in coffee houses around the world with the vague and strangely uncomfortable hope that we will “connect” with a flesh-and-blood person, we find that we are increasingly “keeping to ourselves,” tucked away in a corner of the café or shop, with our eyes clearly fixed on the luminous screens in front of us. Our eyes do not drift, even for a moment, as we raise our steaming lattés to our lips, so practiced are we at the art of evading others to concentrate on what is taking place in that beautiful world inside and beyond our laptops.

Even while we are in line at the coffee shop, taxation office, grocery store, or train station, we are caught offguard by the nature of our aloneness. We are suddenly very conscious of ourselves, of our appearance, and of our surroundings, and we become aware of a kind of loneliness that did not seem to exist when we were on the internet in the company of hundreds of thousands of other lonely disembodied voices. As we look furtively around to make sure that no-one else has noticed our discomfort, we quickly dip into our pockets for our iPhones, looking to see – with a strange kind of compulsion - what we may have missed in the last 5 minutes since we last checked our newsfeeds. In this day and age, it is absolutely against the rules to look uncomfortable and alone at any moment of the day. To be uncomfortable and alone is, after all, the epitome of uncool.

This is the incredible and magnetic appeal of the online experience.

When we are online, we are not alone. We are not uncomfortable. We have the power to remove ourselves from the constraints, the judgments, the rules, the assessments and the evaluations that are inherent in our physical lives. We have the ability to escape – for as long as we wish – from the biological and psychological armor with which evolution has clothed us. Although countless essays and articles have been written about the alienating nature of the internet experience, there is no question that we will continue to live more and more of our lives online. For those of us who are under the age of 35, the online experience has become an integral and important part of our lives, one which will only become more important and more influential as time goes on. For those of us who are currently under 20, the online experience has become as important – if not more important than our experience in the physical world. I think very few would disagree that the internet is becoming an increasingly ubiquitous and enormously influential dimension of everyday life.

Regardless of the foregoing, the online experience also opens up many new and possibly wonderful possibilities. For the first time in human history, we have the ability to put ourselves into a virtual space where, unguided by our senses of smell, taste, sight, hearing, and touch, we can deprive ourselves – by choice - of the opportunity to judge others by what they look like, by what they wear, by how they speak, by who they love, and by how old they are. In this virtual or suspended reality, we also have the power to rewrite the rules so that individuals can be judged by the merit of what they say and write, and by how they express themselves, instead of by the primitive and age-old marks of class, income, status, and ethnicity.

This is one of the incredible advantages of the internet, that by means of anonymity, we can – for whatever reason – be more open and, to a certain extent, more honest, more intimate, and more authentic than we can be out there in the physical world. Of course, the argument cuts both ways. We have all seen examples of individuals becoming crueler, more aggressive, and more feral than they would have been if they had been forced to come face to face with people in a physical space. Very few people will deny that this phenomenon has repeated itself many times over the last 10 years. Illustrations of this type of behavior are published all over the internet. Anonymity, after all, provides individuals with a certain degree of protection, and individuals have shown, time and time again, that they will use this armor to their advantage to inflict injury on others, knowing that there will be no opportunity for retribution on the part of the injured.

Regardless, the principle still stands: There is safety in anonymity, and although the risks are high that certain individuals will hide behind this shield to sling mud, to bully, and to hurl insults at others, the possibility also arises that meaningful communication could one day take place online. Although there is no question that we, as a species, have the power to rewrite the rules about how we acknowledge, judge, evaluate, and assess others, the question remains: Will we have the strength to wield this power, to allow for true, open communication, to be friendly, compassionate, and accepting of one another and of our divergent opinions? Will we do what it takes to create a welcoming, democratic online environment where meaningful discussion can take place? Or as time passes, will we allow for discussion to become less personal, less intimate, more objective, more processed, more mechanical – a virtual exchange of binary information in a cold, suspended reality?

The internet is a newly-discovered territory. Many of the rules have not yet been written, and what little has been written is not yet carved in stone. Online, we have the ability and the power to take back our communities, to restore them to the heart of our society, to reclaim kindness, compassion, friendship, love, and meaning back into the larger discussion, and to welcome every single human being into this worldwide conversation, without fear of judgment or reprisal, cloaked and shielded as we are by our anonymity. But this will only work if each individual plays his or her part, if each person understands that he or she is important and invaluable in laying the foundation for a new society, a new and beautiful world full of promise, possibility, and meaning.

Over the past five years, I’ve thought many times about going back to school to get my Ph.D. Why not? As Oscar Wilde says, "You can never be overdressed or over-educated." Since I loved school, it seemed like the appropriate thing to do, especially during those moments when I was unsure of what I was doing with my life and of where I was going with my career. But after taking some time to really think about it, I've decided that it would be cheaper - and that it would probably make me a richer person in the end - to continue with my studies in the program called LIFE, the one in which I am currently enrolled. In this program, I am constantly making mistakes, trying new things, succeeding, failing, and experiencing all of the good and the bad that life throws my way. I'm definitely well on my way to earning my Ph.D in life.

In this program, there are no course schedules and no formal classes. The degree is earned every day, with every decision I make, every step forward in the right direction and every step backwards too. There are more exams in this program than in any I've completed in the past, and no amount of studying or preparation will ensure the success and validation that comes with straight A's. It's all up to me. It’s up to me to keep myself motivated to achieve my goals, and to give myself a pat on the back when I need it. The great thing about the School of Life - the toughest school on Earth - is that it’s almost impossible to flunk out. The next day, you can always dust yourself off and try again. Its lessons are presented everyday in the form of events and experiences over which you may have little or no control and which will challenge you in the most unexpected ways.

So what have I learned recently?

1. It is possible to help others while also receiving help from others.

When I finished my school counseling certification, I had a part time job as a therapist. Although I went on numerous interviews for full-time counseling jobs, I suffered rejection after rejection. When I went home, I would sit in my little apartment and feel sorry for myself. Although I provided counseling to others during this time, I felt like a fraud. I found myself asking: “How can I help other people when my own life is in disarray?”

During this time, I mentored a young woman, as a favor to a friend who had asked that I help steer her in the right direction. I remember that I went to meet this young woman, with thirty pages of information about Philadelphia Community College in hand and a big enthusiastic smile on my face. At our meeting, she introduced me to the spray tan and I tried to impart some knowledge to her about the value of post-secondary education – a totally fair trade. And then, I never heard from her again. I doubted that I had had any impact on her at all, but I left feeling okay about myself, because I knew that I had at least given it a shot.

Recently, I received an email from the young woman I had mentored so many months ago, in which she wrote:

"Oh Brooke, what type of therapist are you? I thought about being one too :) Your an amazing chick! I'm so glad that X introduced me to you. And thanks I will be deff needing some help and thank you for offering :D I need more people like you around you are a great role model... And I can tell you that you have a great sense of style and your gorgeous too!"

(Her words, not mine. And if that's her perception of me, well I'm definitely not going to try changing it.) When I received her email, I was surprised that I had had any effect on her, but more importantly, I was really grateful that she had taken the time to let me know that I had somehow made a difference in her life. In fact, it is thanks to her email that I have now resolved to do what I’ve always wanted to do with my life - to help people overcome their own challenges, and to help them realize their potential. Thanks to the fact that this young woman reached out to me with her email, I realize now that I can help others even though I myself may not have it all figured out. Despite the challenges that I face in my own life, I believe that I have had a positive effect on her - and I hope that I have encouraged her to make better decisions for herself.

The point I’m trying to make is that there is not a single person on this planet who has his or her shit together all the time. Everyone is dealing with some inner battle, and it is because of these battles that we become more effective teachers or guides for one another. Because I’ve finally reconnected with something I believe in and am passionate about, I find myself welcoming the challenges that are thrown my way, knowing that in the end, they will make me a stronger person and a more effective writer and mentor. Little does this young woman know that she has helped me get back in touch with what my heart has been telling me for so long.

Which brings me to my next lesson.

2. Listen to YOUR heart, and only your heart.

In the last few months, I have gone to eight interviews with Barneys New York. You're probably really confused about why I was trying to work at a place like Barneys. The truth is - I really wasn’t. As I had decided to leave my counseling career behind, my objective at the time was to write for a fashion start-up and to work at Barneys to earn some extra income. The whole point of this adventure – which I obviously managed to lose track of - was that my goal was to write. Over time, this goal was somehow re-worked to fit someone else’s idea of what he or she thought I wanted to do with my life. (Red flag number 1: It is impossible for anyone to know what I want. Only I know what I want and sometimes figuring that out is difficult even for me.)

Of course, it was entirely my fault because I let the process snowball, ignoring my heart and everything that it was trying to tell me. During each interview, I would hear myself reply to questions, while I made silent comments inside my head: "Wow, you’re a better bullshitter than I thought. You can definitely sell yourself. You love fashion but it's not really what you want to do. It's writing, remember? Brooke, you did not just say that. Stop lying Brooke." Each time, I would leave the interview feeling that I had done a great job, but knowing in my heart that I didn't want to work there.

Before I knew it, I was offered a job at Barneys as an administrative assistant in the cosmetics and shoe departments. (By the way, if ever you want to get a job at Barneys, the interview process is probably on par with the way the FBI screens potential candidates. By the fourth round, my grandfather asked me if I was up for the position of CEO.) To make a long story short, I turned down the job at Barneys and, as it turns out, the writing job at the fashion start-up didn’t work out either - for reasons that were beyond my control. At the same time, my heart began to tell me in no uncertain terms that I was heading in the wrong direction, and that what I really wanted to do was to write and to help people. And ultimately to help people through my writing.

This "semester" has been one of my toughest yet but also one of the most rewarding. These lessons have not come easy, but then again, nothing worth learning ever does. Knowing that I'm going to fail again in the future no longer scares me because failing, in my eyes, has taken on a new meaning. It means that I tried. I'd rather be an active participant in my life and make mistakes than to sit back, play it safe, and let it pass me by. I'm a little bit wiser and a little bit stronger than I was only a year ago. I'm looking forward to my next semester of life, which I know will bring with it more exciting and challenging experiences and lessons – with no studying required. I'd rather just wing it anyway.