“Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.”
Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, movie with Matthew Broderick, 1986
Back in November, I finally broke down and got myself a smart phone. I had been a staunch avoider of the technology upgrade, but cost-wise it made more sense than continuing with my dumb phone, so I gave in. In the six months since, I’ve thought a lot about how that phone has affected my life. I realize this seems like an over-the-top thing to do – Just use the phone, Karen…don’t think about it so much – but since I’m me, I can’t help but think about it. Many of those thoughts have centered on the idea of mindfulness, and that’s what I want to write about today.
“Mindful” is defined as “having in mind; aware or careful (of)” and is an adjective – a descriptive word. (Ex. Susan was mindful of the fact that her grandmother couldn’t walk very fast.) “Mindfully” is also included in the dictionary entry since it’s a form of the word “mindful”. It is not directly defined, but it is an adverb – a word that explains how something is done. (Ex. Susan mindfully slowed her own walking pace.) “Mindfulness” is also listed, also not specifically defined, and it is a noun – a thing or an idea. (Ex. Susan’s mindfulness was noticed and appreciated by her grandmother.)
What I like about the word “mindful” is that it is not a passive word. It suggests intention – doing something on purpose. To suggest that a person could do something both “mindfully” and “without thinking” is impossible. One cancels the other.
How does this connect to my smart phone?
If someone asked me how having a smart phone has affected my life, I would say that it has made me less mindful of what’s going on around me and in my own life.
Now, before you quit reading this because you think it will be another rant and rave against technology, give me a second. I am someone who has a love/hate relationship with technology. I see what it’s doing to erode human connection and dismantle our ability to actually communicate. However, I also have come to see how technology encourages a healthy lack of mindfulness. And I’m going to talk about both. So, stick with me. J
I’m not sure why I’m so wary of technology (and always have been). I think it is rooted in the fact that I want to see and touch things so I can understand them fully. I need to be able to underline quotes in my books, flip through pages of my planner, and print out my pictures. I still buy CDs so I can check out the liner notes and lyrics. I have a place where I keep old letters and cards, some from as far back as third grade. I don’t want my life to be virtual; I want it to be tangible. While I’ve blissfully forgotten most of physics, I do remember that “matter” is “anything that has mass and takes up space.” For something to matter in my life, it, too, must take up space.
“Space” carries a lot of connotations. It can mean a spot in a room or a house. It can mean time spent. It can mean emotional effort. For me, technology means less space. Instead of a small box of letters, I have email folders where I archive all my emails (which I rarely go back and read). Instead of taking the time to call a friend or send a note, I often will send a text or message them on Facebook (which takes less time and effort). I slowly find myself taking more pictures with my phone (which will never be printed out). Don’t get me wrong. Progress isn’t always a terrible thing. But what I struggle with is that, in many instances, less space equates with less meaning, less “mattering.”
For a long time, I didn’t have a Facebook. To be honest, the only reason I got one three years ago is because I started a business and felt I needed an online presence. While it hasn’t hurt me at all to be on Facebook – it really is lovely to see people’s children as they grow and to be able to keep up with people who live far away – I have a hard time saying that it has helped me. I waste a lot of time on Facebook. I find myself clicking on links and reading articles that do not enrich my life in any way. Like everyone, I’ve indulged in some good, old fashioned Facebook stalking of people from college or high school instead of using that time to focus on people who are in my life now. Are any of these things inherently bad? Not really. But do they lend themselves to a life lived mindfully? Not really.
This is how I feel about my cell phone. It hasn’t hurt me…but I remain unconvinced that it has helped me. Do I appreciate my GPS? Yes. However, does my GPS make it possible for me to drive without paying much attention to where I’m going? Yep. Do I appreciate answering emails during the course of the day rather than having to wait until I get home? Of course I do. But does having the capacity to answer emails all day mean that my day is punctuated with emailing? Yep, again. Do I appreciate being able to Google anything that I can’t figure out? Sure. But does that mean that I passively depend on being able to look things up rather than trying to figure them out myself? Absolutely. Do I appreciate that I can fill time when I’m bored by checking out random websites and using different apps? I do. But do I also find myself turning to my phone as a panacea for boredom instead of enjoying a moment of silence or inactivity? All the time.
“But Karen,” you argue, “isn’t it better to send a quick text and tell someone you’re thinking of them rather than planning to write them a letter or card and losing the moment?” Or, maybe, “Karen, come on, do you really need to re-read letters or flip through photo albums? You lived those moments, so it is just a waste of time to go back!” You might even say, “Karen, seriously? What’s so bad about checking your phone when you’re bored?” If you argued those things, you wouldn’t be wrong. I won’t deny that the ability to let someone know that they are on your mind exactly when they are on your mind is really great. I also will admit that it can be easy to get wrapped up in the past and miss the present. I won’t even argue with you that it can be a relief to have a way to pass what feels like empty time. But there are flaws in that way of thinking, too. On one hand, it puts “the moment” on a pedestal and overlooks the fact that, while “the moment” can be important, it cannot stand alone. On the other hand, this vein of thinking simultaneously suggests that a wasted moment here or there doesn’t really matter and nothing is lost if we recklessly spend our time.
What I don’t want to lose is my sense of how each moment is a part of a larger picture. I fear that we are turning into people who see “right now” as an independent entity and who forget that “right now” is just one of an impossible-to-count number of “right nows” strung together on a line – a line that is the backbone of our lives. In fact, I think that line is sorely underappreciated. The line is what calls us back to mindfulness. It serves as a reminder that this moment is connected to the next one, that in order to understand “right now” we must also understand what is behind “right now.”
Here’s an example of what I mean. Think about how people read the news in the past and how they read the news now. In the past, the news arrived in the form of a newspaper. Each story was its own piece, but each page had multiple stories, sometimes similar stories with different perspectives. The stories were organized into general topics: front page news, sports news, financial news, fashion news, etc. A person reading about finances in the United States would have easy access to news about finances in other countries, as well. Context was clearer because stories were placed right next to each other. As someone who grew up in a house where we got a paper every morning, I know first-hand that if you finish reading one story on a page, it’s pretty natural to just continue meandering through the other stories on the page. Pretty soon, you’ve got a well-rounded picture of what’s going on in the country and in the world.
Now when I read news, I usually just scroll through headlines. If a story sounds interesting, I’ll click on it. If not, I keep scrolling. When I read an individual story that sounds interesting, I am sometimes directed to similar articles, but I don’t have that same sense of how the story fits with other pieces of news. I am essentially reading fragmented news. This makes it a challenge to feel like I know what is happening in the world as a whole. It is far more work to be informed in a well-rounded way. Because it’s so much extra work to be well-informed, I, like many other people, replace being well-informed with being well-entertained. Read multiple stories about the Middle East from a variety of news outlets in an attempt to understand the conflict? Sorry, not enough time. Watch goats perform the Game of Thrones theme song? Done and done. [Side note: This is not to say that the goats aren’t hilarious. This video? Worth your time. Even if you don’t watch the show.]
Another great example (if I do say so myself J) is how people buy music. It used to be that in order to add a song you liked to your personal collection, you had to either (A) stalk the song on the radio and push Record at the exact moment it started playing so you could have it on a tape or (B) buy the whole album. Listening to a whole album from start to finish was a part of the experience of music. Artists specifically ordered songs so they could create a whole message or feeling. Songs were better understood in context, and it was possible to use one song on an album to help interpret another.
Since the advent of iTunes, people no longer buy whole albums. Instead, they buy singles. Obviously, this can be quite lucrative for certain artists who don’t have it in them to write/produce/perform a whole album of songs (which may be me being too generous – how many of these types of artists actually write or produce their own music?). One hit wonders are probably in better shape now than they ever have been. But I have to imagine that it’s pretty frustrating to legitimate musical artists (who do write and produce their own music) that they put the time and effort into an album only to have listeners focus on just one or two songs. Sure, musicians make their money, but the integrity of what it means to be a musician is compromised. They feed the arrogance of the listener by kowtowing to the notion that music doesn’t need a bigger picture. It’s only the listener’s interpretation that matters, not the artist’s. It would be the same as asking a friend a personal question, only listening to one sentence of his or her response, and then assuming you know the whole story.
In essence, what technology does is it allows us to ignore the bigger picture. We can easily isolate information and interactions. However, when we ignore the bigger picture, it’s easy to forget that it even matters. Small events don’t require meaning because they aren’t connected to anything more significant. When seemingly minor events lose meaning and the context seems less important, we lose our need to be mindful of what we’re doing. Think back to that definition of “mindful” – “having in mind; aware of or careful of.” There is a forward-thinking aspect to being mindful. It begs the question: “What effect will this have?” If we constantly skirt around the context of what’s going on, we also get to avoid a lot of contemplation about what our moments (particularly our decisions in any given moment) mean. And here, finally, we reach the real problem: when we lose our need to be mindful, we lose our need to pay attention, and once we stop paying attention, we stop living our lives on purpose.
Maybe this is a bold statement. Disagree with me, please, if I’m wrong. But if someone lives without the bigger picture in mind, that someone is going to struggle to find a purpose in life.
Let’s be clear. I don’t think that having a smart phone means I will lose all sense of purpose in my life. I would never claim that. But I think that technology like my smart phone makes it possible to stop noticing things, to stop thinking about things, to stop doing things. Really doing them. What I never want to see happening in my life is the things I own – the things that put me into a moment-driven existence – becoming the things that fill my day. Because how I fill my day is how I spend my time. And how I spend my time is how I spend my life.
As I discussed this topic with my friend Christina, I explained my thoughts about how we sometimes forget that our moments are strung together by a line. She thought about that a moment and then so eloquently returned, “And that line is so short.” I have to thank her for her thoughts (Thanks, Christina!), because I hadn’t given much thought to the idea of the line ending. I had just thought about its ability to create structure and context. But she’s right. Because of that line, we must come face to face with the fact that our moments are not infinite. For some people, I think this knowledge spurs them on to walk a line where they earnestly believe every moment of every day is important and life-changing. (This can lead to a life full of the highest highs and the lowest lows because there is nothing in between.) Other people try to force normal day-to-day moments to have as much meaning as truly crucial moments because, otherwise, what was the point of today? (This can lead to exhaustion – it is a lot of work to make every moment count – and to an inability to realize when something actually is important – these people are like the Boy Who Cried Wolf, Life Edition.) I can say with complete honesty that I’ve been on both ends of the spectrum as I’ve navigated through adulthood. But this is where I have learned a few things from my smart phone and have come to believe that there is middle ground. There is something to be said for mindfully choosing to spend time in a way that doesn’t really achieve anything great. Mindlessness can be useful and healthy.
But that’s a blog post for next time. Stay tuned!
