The Disintegrated Life

I have instant access to everyone and everything,
so why do I feel so alone?

Our technology is a two-edged sword.

On the one hand, we have products that connect us instantly with one another, enabling an unprecedented spread of ideas and information. We have instant fact-checking, libraries’ worth of media, and access to almost every human being we’ve ever met.

On the other hand, we’ve reached new levels of isolation as well:
We get lost in the sea of social media, overwhelmed by information.
We lose sight of our individual roles in increasingly interconnected industries.
Our salaries and house sizes and Facebook likes become our new identities.
We ourselves become the products that advertisers sell to companies instead of the other way around.
And all of it leaves us feeling disconnected
from our families and friends,
from our workplaces and faith communities,
but especially, from ourselves.

Our worlds become compartmentalized, with your work self, your Facebook self, your family time self, your church self, and your downtime self all sharing space in one overcrowded head,
and yet,
the glowing rectangle updating you on the big world crisis
or the party tomorrow at your friend Melissa’s house
or Dan and Angie’s 4,000th baby picture
just won’t stop buzzing.
The time where we might sit and sort through the triumphs and traumas of the day
and maybe find a little peace for ourselves
goes instead to the phone or the TV or the tablet or the laptop.
It’s the quick-and-easy painkiller that saves us from doing the hard work of existence,
and yet, never getting around to that work is causing us more and more pain,
and the longer we spend in the overflowing digital space,
the more alone and frustrated we feel.

Contrast that to the commands of the Bible.
“Be still,” the Psalm tells us.
Stop for a moment and recall your place in the order of things.
“Remember,” Jesus tells us from the gospels.
Take those disintegrated parts of your self and let them be knit back together.

Our technology is an amazing tool,
but there’s more to us than the constant information stream.
Take time.
Reconnect with yourself.
Reconnect with the Holy.
Be still. Remember.

This post was inspired by Rob Bell’s RobCast episode “The Importance of Boredom” and Karl Marx’s theory of alienation from Economic and Philosophic Manuscripts of 1844. One of the things that excites me most about the bar scene is how little I see people’s phones out in that setting. When people are sitting there over a beer, for whatever reason, unplugging and being present get a little easier. Approaching strangers and striking up conversations becomes a little more acceptable, and everyone –EVERYONE– gets to pet my dog. There’s such a need right now for community space (both physical and digital), and I hope we can all work together to foster open community around us.

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