Disconnecting Technology

We walk around in the world under the mistaken assumption that people want to understand us. We blog, we talk, we explain. We tweet, we post status updates.

With a few notable exceptions, people don't really want to understand us. They want us to understand them.

"Seek first to understand, then be understood," said some famous person I don't remember.

What if it's really about connection, not understanding? I think that's why I am a compulsive social media checker; I can whip through three email accounts, Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr, and Facebook in five minutes, and I do so whenever things slow down (standing in line, sitting at softball, commercials watching TV, etc). I've turned into one of Those Assholes with their forehead resting on their smartphone. It's connection, not technology, that brings me back.

But technology is isolating. Sicily always jokes about being "alone together" when we sit on the couch, watching TV with our faces buried in our laptops or cellphones. If you can email, why call? And if you can text, why email? And if you can just leave a comment on Instagram, why text? Generation Y doesn't even email anymore, and who knows if the generation after them will even text.

The end result of this is disconnecting from the world by connecting to a device. I don't want that for me, and I force myself to be present more and off the screen. Difficult because my job does require a fair amount of screen time, but I can limit non-work hours spent in front of the computer. I'd like to get back to liking people as much as I like humanity, but it's difficult when I am trapped behind the pixels in my face. There is a reason it's called a "cell" phone...

Image by Mike Kline

Scorched Earth

It’s no great surprise that the Sanskrit word for old habits or patterns is “samskara.” Even the word sounds like scarring.

And although we all know that chicks dig scars (and dudes, too. Let’s be honest.), in this sense, samskara is not a good thing. It is the neural pathways we wear down by doing the same thing over and over. It is why the carpet in our house has a groove and our shoes are worn down in the same way. It’s why the dog looks at us funny if we walk down a different road.

Habits. Patterns. Drudgery. Routine. Stagnation.

I would be super easy to stalk (and, let’s be honest, to rob also, except I have two dogs who would probably rip your arm off if you tried to come into the house uninvited. So there’s that.). I follow the same pattern, have the same routine, for everyday tasks. Dane used to laugh at me because I wash my face the same way, every time, without exception. I follow the same pattern when I wake up every morning. The dogs know where to stand for their breakfast and their joint supplements, and you could set your clock by the cat (who knows when everything gets started).

So getting out of samskara is painful, like slashing open a scar. Except it’s not really all that hard after you get that 4 a.m. phone call and wind up with a dead husband. After that, the scariest thing is falling into the old patterns, not learning from the experience, and taking things for granted.

As previously mentioned, I am an all-or-nothing kind of girl. This may not be evident in everyday life, necessarily, but where it matters I like to swing for the fence. So moving is simultaneously a big deal and nothing much at all. More moving parts this time, but not much different than loading up the Civic and heading west. Or north. Or south.

The scariest part for me is the possibility of scorched earth. Utter destruction in my wake. There is always that possibility. Make one choice here…yikes.

Unless I don’t get caught.

Which, in and of itself, is an old pattern.

Which patterns are so much a part of you that you barely know they exist? For better or worse?

Image by stephen jones via Flickr