your [own] year in review

this week facebook is blessing us with a new feature. if you are the proud claimant of a facebook account, on the left side of your wall is a clickable link which will take you to your “2013 year in review.” figuring we either can’t do it for ourselves or they can do it for us more effectively, facebook has put together “a [personal] look back at the 20 biggest moments from the past year” for every one of their users. thanks facebook. how helpful of you to fill me in on my biggest moments by highlighting those i happened to post about.

first of all, let me be honest: i find things like year end reviews to be really fun. it’s important and instructive to take time now and again to review where you’ve been and how you’ve been there. technology is amazing in its ability to provide us a detailed record, of sorts, of how we’ve spent our time and our selves. adding to this digital record, social networks provide the opportunity for our friends to reinforce those happenings/posts they find most interesting/beautiful/fabulous/smart/impressive/etc by clicking “like” and/or commenting. it is from this complicated amalgamation of data that facebook has created for each of us, a personal year in review.

i’d like to propose that this sort of review might not be the most reliable reference for our feelings about the past 12 months. our “year in review” in facebook-land is seemingly created by showing you for what you got the most attention. this is rarely a good way to determine the depth, shape, or “success” of anything.

it’s important for me to be honest about the fact that i am not a frequent visitor of my personal facebook account. i opened it years ago and use it only occasionally to post photos of unusual occurrences and to offer my blog posts to friends (and acquaintances and friends of friends and...). because i know that i’m prone to feeling less-than, i need to be careful about hanging out in spaces built on communal, filtered sharing about shiny-happy moments. i know that not everyone feels this way. i also know that facebook is used by many in quite authentic and honest ways to build, maintain, and cultivate community and support. plenty of people find huge comfort and connection through their involvement with facebook. that is just not my experience. just as in life, where we find the evidence that supports our beliefs about ourselves, five minutes on facebook is all i need to reinforce a deep fear that i’m not nearly successful/smart/caring/involved/attractive/connected/giving/humble enough. once that belief takes root it’s hard for me to move past it. even still, i feel a need to understand the way in which social networks impact our current relational economy so i choose to be an infrequent user, working diligently to post that which is enough without crossing the bounds of that which is self serving, sensational, insincere, insensitive, or frivolous. 

that being said, this was a big year for me personally. i had some personal and professional successes alongside plenty of defeats. i experienced a few mountain top moments with my family, friends, clients, and mentorees and also had plenty of days that were simply good enough. i slayed some personal dragons this year and lost plenty of battles as well. i suffered some and i grew some, as did my friends and family.

look at my facebook “year in review,” however, and you’d think that this was a year of nothing but smiles and light hearted capriciousness. i played around in photo booths and sat on santa’s lap with my college roommate, i made goofy faces when people had their cameras out. by what facebook chose for me it appears that skateboards, silly antics, and my husband’s and kids’ activities are about all that matter. and i don’t even skate board.

only 4 of the 20 facebook features would even make my top 50 important experiences of 2013 for me.  what i would never post on facebook, and therefore never find in my year end review there, are some of the things that shaped me most. the intimate and cherished conversations, the shared confidences, the hurts, the sleepless nights, the photos taken of me when i wasn’t looking...double chinned and cross eyed, dark circled after hours of play or worry, or looking grumpy/frazzled/less than hospitable after a particularly taxing day. i didn’t post status updates about how little i knew and how out of control i felt. there weren’t opportunities for my “friends” to affirm me for my efforts at becoming a more authentic, centered, and contemplative soul. i didn’t put those status’ out there. 

as a result, i am given the gift of a list of the highlights of my year based upon nothing short of that which others most responded to among the few things i felt appropriate sharing in such a nebulous space. never mind that the posts about deeply personal disappointments or successes, large scale failures, and/or deeply intimate moments went completely unwritten and, therefore, “un-liked” by my facebook friends.

as you say goodbye to the year that was and hello to the one that is to be why not take a few moments to contemplate your own, very personal, year in review. write it out if you like...or draw it in pictures. sing it or dance it. chart it, graph it, or record it as an equation. find it and honor it in the way that is truly you. make sure, however, that it includes events that could never be “liked” because they were never shared in cyber space. make sure the list holds things you’re proud of and experiences you’ve learned from, times your heart has swollen with love and times it has been bruised by pain, images of people you have loved well and awarenesses of how you might love people better, times where you’ve “won” and times where you’ve been strong enough to admit you’ve “lost,” gratitudes and apologies, the good and the bad. once you’ve made it, see this list as the real year in review and honor it as such...not by hoping for likes by others but by learning to accept it/embrace it/learn from it whether you like it or not.

being "learned"

i try to keep a little moleskine journal with me at all times. in it i write lists, thoughts and feelings, reminders, and things i hear others say that i want to come back to. in looking back over the last several recorded quotes i found this gem shared by the ceo of blackberry’s rim, regarding their newest phone, released in february of this past year. “this device learns you...learns your personality. after one week, it knows you.” i felt odd when i first read it and even more so now. largely because i believe it to be true.

i’ve noticed that both my computer and phone know me well. better than i ever imagined they would. spell check doesn’t auto correct “doreen” to “Doreen” anymore and is no longer confused by my frequently used “ugh” and “arg” exclamations. i’m reminded of calendar items with incredible consistency, push notifications suggest spots i might enjoy along my walk, and my basic searches are anticipated with frightening accuracy. yesterday i had only gotten to the “i” in “short list” when “2014 oscar documentary category” filled in for me. that was exactly what i was looking for. i hadn’t been searching anything related to award shows or documentaries and yet, based on all the data i’ve provided in the past, my search engine guessed what i might be looking for based on 7 letters: short li.

i’m guessing you’ve had this happen as well. when you have, have you stopped to consider how amazing it is? this tiny computer (with massive capabilities) that you carry in your backpack (laptop) or back pocket (phone) knows you. it caters to you. it makes your life easier and assumes that you and your preferences/patterns/choices truly are the center of the universe. this makes these devices far more desirable as companions than real (pesky) people who come complete with their own preferences/patterns/choices/inconsistencies.

more and more it seems to me that we are attaching to our devices with a similar kind of emotion we experience when we attach to people. increasingly unable to be alone with our selves, we use our phones (and/or laptops) to engage us, entertain us, or to connect us to others in a weird sort of “arms length” way. don’t want to commit to a whole coffee date with someone but don’t feel capable of sitting at a table alone looking up and around, we text and facebook our way through our cup of joe. uncomfortable at the thought of standing in line and letting our minds wander we adopt the new national posture, head down, arms bent, hands curled around a small glowing screen displaying never ending images seemingly more engaging than those around us. we have siri type messages and make calls. all the while we teach our devices to know us better and to cater to us more effectively

about a year ago a movie called “robot and frank” was released, telling the story of an aging ex-jewel thief whose children procure a caretaking robot to help him in his declining years. frank develops a deep and complex connection to his robot and faces difficult ethical and relational choices throughout the film. in a few weeks, “her” will be released telling the story of a young man who falls deeply in love with his operating system. both of these films are said to take place in the “not too distant future.” 

the thing is...i feel quite certain that these realities are here now. we have fallen deeply in love with our devices (and, if not “in love,” then most certainly “in dependence upon”). more young adults than i can count have told me that they feel a sexual surge associated with the “powering on” sound of their phone or laptop. not only do these devices deliver the porn that is so often their norm but they also contain the primary place of connection to everyone and every thing they love. equally frequent is the reported surge of anger experienced by the partner of an individual who is addicted to their device, consistently choosing time with their phone or computer to time with their spouse/friend/partner. possibly even more wide spread than these reactions is the simple experience of mild to severe anxiety that many feel when they accidentally leave their device behind for a period of time. (e.g: how will i get directions? how will i let people know where i am? how will i take a picture? know the time? find my way? update my status?)

our devices have become pseudo partners of sorts. years ago we pulled cell phones out of our pockets in order to look important. they made us appear cool and connected and significant. no longer, however, do we pull them out. instead, we carry them constantly as extensions of ourselves, no longer making us look important but, instead, making us feel complete. there’s no need for silence or discomfort or unknown or awkward or human encounter or wandering/wondering. it’s all there for us...all the information, entertainment, distraction, and even people we could ever want in the palms of our hands. we can turn them on or off at will. start 10 texted conversations at once and leave them whenever we want. know when someone has received and read our message so that we can resent them when they don’t respond immediately.  get exact directions to the location we desire without any need to navigate. watch all the youtube clips possible without ever tapping-in to our own creative imagination. immerse ourselves in the environs of endless games (crush candy, fling birds, and all other manner of mindless activities) never knowing what is really going on around us.

it is up to us how connected we are to the devices we carry. we are just as responsible for our relationships with them as we are for the relationships we maintain with entities that have beating hearts and breathing lungs. the former are based solely upon our myopic “button pushing” and the patterns created therein. the latter are less of a sure thing. by engaging these embodied relationships we might, at times, be bored or look awkward or get lost. we might try a restaurant we end up not liking or miss an opportunity to better our score or need to ask the person next to us to teach us something. this might provide for the rich (and often unknown/out of control) opportunity to “learn from” the silence, the spaciousness, the neighbor, the world, and the experiences around us rather than relying on “being learned.” this might matter because, while being learned well makes for an interesting movie, in the long run it just might make for a very unfulfilling (and possibly even un-lived) life.

being a light in the dark

several decembers ago, i was in a season of personal darkness. my sister in law and three nieces had been murdered only months before, i was central to my mother in law’s care, i had a two year old and a 6 month old, and was balancing being a mostly at-home mom with an “on the side” private practice. that same year a new christmas song was released. perfectly winter-quiet and lullaby-like the chorus featured a children’s choir singing three words over and over and over. those three words? all. is. well. 

the song made me sick. all was not well in me or around me and i felt stunningly un-merry. up to that point in my life december had been a highlight of the year. it has been redeemed for me since. that particular year, however, i came to understand how oddly isolated one can feel amidst glowing candles, sparkly lights, bulging mail boxes, and general cultural merriment.

this week i attended an interfaith service hosted by christian and jewish congregations that share a physical building. people of all faith traditions gathered to create a welcoming space for those who needed to express sadness, receive solace, or find hope for consolation. in the email invitation i received the rabbi and pastor stressed light as a symbol that works in most religious traditions and promised that each faith tradition represented would “bring its own form of light to illuminate and warm the gathering.” throughout the course of the hour we sang songs, lit candles, and listened to the wisdom of others through poetry and homilies.

the entire evening was a gift. the gathering was small and participants were offered just the right opportunities for engagement and solitude. i was touched by all that was shared but one analogy stuck with a particular urgency. urgency that prompts me to share it with you.

as the rabbi shared the significance of light in the jewish tradition, she pointed out that when one is standing in the beam of a spotlight he cannot see anything outside of the circle he is in. when you are in the light, it’s hard to imagine that anyone might be in the dark. not necessarily self centered, the person in the spotlight simply can’t see past the light they are bathed in.

many of us see this month as a season of nothing but light. we move merrily from holiday gathering to church to the mall to the tree where we sip cocoa and watch “it’s a wonderful life” and sigh deeply. this is not a bad thing. in fact, it is deeply good to have times and seasons of joy and tradition and nostalgia and warmth and faith and belonging and love and giving and receiving and and and... what is important, however, is to remember that these can serve as spotlights of sorts, capable of blinding us to those among us who hurt or need or who celebrate holy days different from our own. 

as you move into the final days of this year and the first of the next, make sure and step out of the spotlight now and again. gaze out and into the dark, into the unfamiliar and unknown, and look for ways to be the light for those you find there. you don’t need to create a spotlight. in the dark, even a spark can light the way.

need ideas? here are a few suggestions of easy ways to be the light.

consider those in your community who have lost loved ones during the year (including pets) or who have faced particularly difficult challenges. send them a note/email/text to tell them you are aware of the sadness they might be feeling as they face into the holidays.

cut a 3 x 5 card (or any paper) into small business card rectangles and write encouraging phrases on them such as “you are great!” “you matter!” “you made my day.” carry them in your pocket and leave them behind with the restaurant check, at the grocery counter, with your outgoing mail, or with the retail worker who helps you. better yet...send one back to the cook in the kitchen, the dish washer, or hand one to the person cleaning the bathroom at the mall.

get your side walk chalk out from summer storage and head to someone’s house (after dark) that needs encouragement. chalk words and phrases of affirmation on the sidewalk and street in front of their home or around their car.

send an encouraging, empathic, or soothing song to someone who needs comfort. you can do this through itunes by selecting “send as gift.”

carry power bars, hand warmers, or a couple of $5 mc donalds gift cards and give them away to those living in the open on your next trip downtown.

deliver simple treats (store bought cookies work just as well as home made ones) to a few folks working at gas stations, fire/police stations, or hospitals on christmas day.

light a candle and spend a few moments offering a prayer of blessing for those who have no one else to do so for them.

bend down or kneel when you talk with children. get on their level and listen fully to their answers when you ask them questions.

look people in the eye. smile. compliment them. use their name if they’re wearing a name tag. let your interaction with them be the thing that makes their day.

living december with intention

every once in a while i have an idea that works. for me at least. and sometimes for others. recently, i had one about how to order my december. i was preparing an informal talk for a group of women i meet with quarterly and wanted to create a way to think about moving through what is typically a stress and pressure filled month with greater intention and care. a vision came to me of the many pushes and pulls on all of us during this month of preparing, finishing up the year, celebrating, and everything else. i imagined a compass being pulled off true north by magnets stacked high atop each other. while our december true north might actually be simply spending quality time with people we love, cultural, internal, and external “magnets” stack near us and pull us off course. without even thinking about it, we trade the quality time with others (that we claim is most important) for frantic shopping, efforts at creative wrapping, and preparing fancy offerings for potlucks. we forego reading to the kids (or ourselves) in order to get to yet one more cookie exchange. we “have to” make the one old family recipe even though it’s now easily purchasable and no one likes it that much anyway. the cards “must” go out and the lights “need” to go up. 

my question is this: says who?

we are so easily swayed by what we “should” do, what we have done, and what we imagine others “need” us to do. for instance, culture tells me i should love to bake in december and that my home isn’t ready for holiday visitors until cookies and bars fill every container available. frankly, i’m not a sweets person and baking, regardless of the time of year, stresses me out. does this really mean i shouldn’t entertain for the next 3 weeks or, if i do, i should welcome my guests with treats that i resent having “had” to make?

and, so, i offer to you the way i found my true north for this december. it doesn’t take long and requires only paper, a pen, and a sticky note. i encourage you to try it out. there are three weeks of this lovely month left and by determining your true north you will have clarity about where to best spend your time and energy. perhaps you’ll even be able to let the things that don’t make the cut stay undone this year as an experiment in intentional sanity and peace making. for me, making sanity and peace is far more compelling than making cookies.

the exercise:

1 on the left side of the top of your paper write down all the things/happenings/items/events that made december a unique month as you were growing up. this should include positive things and negative things. good and bad. light and dark. think about things like: “my mom spending days in the kitchen and being in a terrible mood.” “us having to keep the house in order in case visitors stopped by.” “twinkly lights and candles.” “hot chocolate.” “christmas music.” “latkes/certain foods.” “feeling disappointed/lonely.” “giving gifts.” “being with family.” “playing in the snow.” “church/synagogue.” really let your mind go back and try to recall what contributed to december being a month unto itself.

2 now go back and write any and all emotions associated with each of these memories. consider feelings like joy, anticipation, sadness, stress, anxiety, pressure, belonging, fear, happiness, exhaustion, etc.

3 on the left side of the bottom of the page list the things/happenings/items/events that have made december what it is for the past several years. again...think broadly and widely. what makes this month what it is?

4 go back to this new list and write the feelings that correspond with each item.

5 look over the list, contemplating all the wonderful, difficult, unresolved, unconsciously driven things/happenings/items/events that make up december. begin considering which are the most important items on this full list. 

6 now begin to discern which five of these items you would keep if you were only able to keep five. ask yourself questions like, “is the feeling that corresponds with this action worth my keeping it?” “do i do this because of assumptions i make about others or about my past?” “is this really important to me or do i do it automatically without much investment or reward and then feel resentful/tired/frustrated after doing it?” cross off all but five of the items.

7 circle the remaining items with intention.

8 transfer the list of five onto the sitcky note and consider it your new compass. use this list to discern what is truly important for you in the coming days. weigh options against this list. carry it with you. leave it out. spill mulled wine on it and use it as a spatula rest. let it mark your book or stick it to your dashboard. let your choices (rather than internal or external random pressures) guide you.

9 ask those who you share time and space with to do the same and see where your compass’ align and differ. consider how you might be able to help others have the experiences they’d like without it pulling you too far off center and ask them for similar support and help.

a few final thoughts:  there are no “right” lists. there are only honest lists. when i did this experiment i found that, for me, giving gifts was a huge part of my excitement in this season. i found that i was willing to take some things that i had previously thought very important off my list in order to keep gift giving. many in the group i shared this experiment with sat in direct opposition to that, saying that gift giving was one of the first things they let go. one person found that she couldn't let "sending holiday cards" go and yet the only feelings associated with getting them in the mail were "overwhelm" and "complete stress." her mind was open to giving this up to make space for something associated with more positive feelings when she realized she could send cards to friends at less full times of the year. when my daughter did the experiment, wearing wool socks and sitting and reading our many children’s christmas books by the fire was on her list. she was surprised that the children's books were on my final list as well. we decided that this was much more important to us than having every decoration we own out and that we’d also be more relaxed about sitting and reading if we knew there was less to pack back away in january. so, for the first time ever, i pared way back in the number of christmas boxes i unpacked but every single kids christmas book we have is piled next to the fire place.

i encourage you to slow down. to breathe deeply. to remember there’s always next year (and 11 other months between now and then). that cards can be sent any time of year. that peanut butter and jelly is a fine contribution to a potluck. i encourage you to listen to your body/mind/heart and to move forth in what remains of this month with freedom and love and grace...heading to a true north that you choose rather than by one that chooses you.

hands free friday (what in the world it is and how to participate)

i’ve always wanted to start a movement. or at least start a motion that starts a movement. not because i want to be behind something but because i think that movement making is important. staying still for too long leads to atrophy and a host of other unintended consequences. constant movement has opposing (and strikingly similar) extreme results. movements as social constructs, however, cause us to become aware of stuck spaces, groupthink, and habits. when someone who is part of a group that is sharing space moves, the shape of the people around her must adjust. when several people shift, more of the group must accommodate the change. the best communities encourage their members to move about and to be shaped by the healthy movement of others.

herein lies the hope behind hands free friday. 

the goal is to start a movement toward awareness of how often our hands are tied up with phones, ipads, computers, video game controllers, and any other number of devices.

to participate YOU DO NOT NEED TO GO ALL DAY FRIDAY TECH FREE. the goal is to choose a simple act that you might do each friday that requires you to put your phone down for a while. i began with cartwheels and started searching for increasingly silly places to do them each week. i had others chronicle them with photographs on their phones. then i branched out into turning my phone off for 10 to 15 minutes every friday. literally powering it off. it was amazing how bizarre that action felt even to me. from there i began to leave my phone at home or in the car for certain friday outings. i paid better attention at museums when i wasn’t trying to take notes on my phone about the artists. i listened to nature differently when i didn’t have earbuds in. i saw the city (or the country, or my friends, or...) when i wasn’t busy instagramming my every experience. there were no dire consequences when texts went unanswered for a period of time.

hands free friday is not about deprivation as much as it is about experimentation. it’s not about cutting out technology cold turkey as much as it is about becoming aware of just how much an extension of yourself your device has become. it’s about embracing a new moderateness that frees you to experience an embodied life. it’s about doing this in a way that is public, for others to see, so that you can invite them to “move” along with you. 

join me, won’t you? whether for 10 minutes or 2 hours, putting your phone/ipad/video game controller down to feel something else, to do a puzzle, to write a poem/song/letter, to make something, to free your hands up...for friday, for yourself, for your community, and beyond.

relational thanks giving: why i wai

there are certain experiences in life that reveal habits i’ve lost complete awareness of. visiting new places is one of these. people who know me in my day to day life don’t bat an eyelash when i call them “honey,” blow them kisses, or arrive to their late evening meetings with a gigantic cup of caffeinated coffee. new friends and associates who i meet en mass when i travel, however, are stumped by many things i do. i prefer “doreen” to “dr. dodgen-magee,” i don’t require fancy (or even good) coffee, and, apparently, i bow. most days i’m not even aware of this but two wonderful trips to the midwest have recently reminded me that this is not “normal.” this has led me to a ridiculous awareness of my palm to palm, hands to forehead, eyes lowered habit and has prompted me to remember my gratitude to the people and experiences who brought me this gift. particularly fitting for the week of gratitude we are in, here is at least a part of the story of why i bow. of why i wai.

several years back i was honored to visit thailand with a group of high schoolers. we lived in a “dormitory” alongside thai middle and high school students who are working to overcome the effects of poverty and familial debt by being given heaping doses of love alongside a formal education. in preparation for our trip we learned that the thai people greet and goodbye with a “bow” of sorts that is called a “wai” (rhymes with “hi”). hands joined palm to palm, in a sort of prayer pose, the head is bowed and the hands lifted toward the forehead.

when we arrived in the rural village in which we served, the wai was the primary way that others welcomed us; a seeming offering of theirs which implied, “i see you,” “i honor you,” “with my full attention.” in some settings thai nationals would wai in such a way that they would lower themselves extremely, to make their own heads closer to the ground than my own. the honor that this implied was uncomfortable for me. i do not want to be “higher” than those i meet. i learned, however, that rather than fighting this act of welcoming reverence, i could receive it and then gift it back. i could catch their eyes when they looked up from the wai and then hold them for a moment as i bowed deeply in response. it became a way of saying “this meeting is sacred. i feel seen and i see you. we are joined in our humanity. thank you.” as i spent the better part of a month cooking, cleaning, learning, and living with these beautiful people, i came to highly value the act of honoring others with my posture. given our lack of understanding of each others’ languages, the wai became a way of demonstrating an awareness of the sacredness of each other. quite unconsciously, i brought it home with me.

years ago my graduate training gave birth to an understanding of, and respect for, the need of humans to feel tended to. both life in general and the meaningful work of doing therapy have grown this knowledge into an appreciation and respect for each person’s desire to be seen deeply and honestly and to be held safely in the attention of another. i am a huge believer in the power of the “parental gaze” to mold and influence the developing sense of self in infants and young children. before any of us know how to care for ourselves, we look to the important others in our visual spheres to see us and “loan” us the things we need. before we can change our own diapers or manage our own bathrooming behaviors, our care takers help us know that, when we are wet and uncomfortable it is possible to return to a dry and comfortable state. when we are distressed we can be comforted. when we are hungry we are fed. and so on. when those entrusted with our care gaze lovingly and attentively at us and work to help us get our needs met, we eventually learn to apply a similarly loving gaze toward our selves and take on the caregiving of ourselves that has been modeled by these others. when this does not happen, however, when our care givers are inconsistent, incapable of interpreting what they see, or neglectful of gazing at us altogether, we grow up physically but remain stuck emotionally, looking to others to determine how to care for ourselves and get our needs met. for those who face this reality, it is hoped that wise, mature, and safe others will serve as pseudo “stand ins” of sorts throughout the years, seeing and gazing in ways that help the neglected get what they have lacked.

last week i participated in a church service where the reverend told a story of a man she had met years before. this congregant was an attorney and shared with the reverend that some days the only physical contact he received was a handshake in the courtroom. how many times is this true for us physically? emotionally? relationally? how often are we seen-truly noticed-in a day? how frequently are we held in someone’s attention (or touch), or respect, or love? equally importantly, how common is it for us to offer someone else the opportunity to be seen and/or held? in stark contrast to the attorney who lacks physical touch, consider the manicurist or massage therapist who touches and pampers people all day but is rarely, if ever, truly seen for who he or she is. rarely touched by the kindness of someone’s words or eye contact or caring questions.

it is for these reasons that i wai. in placing my hands together and bowing slightly i hope to convey to you that i find you an image bearer of the Divine, a person of importance and unique beauty. even if i have shared only a moment with you, i see you as a vital part of the space that we inhabit. together. i’m not more important than you and i have much to be humble about and gracious in my interaction with you. these are the messages i hope you receive, even when you laugh at me or look at me sideways, wondering why in the world i engage in this “weird behavior.”

the next six weeks will be heavy with desires to be seen and known and opportunities to give these gifts to others. while the decorations and sparkling lights scream “cheer,” many of us are just trying to get through the holiday crush. some rush through to-do lists, others put in long grueling hours at jobs where they’re treated terribly, many feel alone and marginalized, scores long for lost loved ones, and we all hope we are just remembered. given the mix of emotions you are likely to face in those you encounter today, how might you be open to genuinely see or welcome those you meet? might you mean it when you ask “how are you?”  could you leave a trail small candies or notes that say “you matter” as you make it through your day? might you remember to simply look people in the eye and thank them specifically for the services they provide you? what if you were to compliment each person you met on some small trait or gesture? what would it be like if you were to take a deep, cleansing breath before you encountered the grocery checker, the employee working the mail counter, your partner, your children/parents, your teacher/boss/co-worker in order to prepare yourself to actually notice to whom you speak/with whom you interact.

the only touch that someone gets should not be a handshake in the courtroom. you have it within your power to provide touch that may never translate to physicality but that can reach the very soul of another. you can honor...you can wai...you can say, with words or deeds, “you matter” “you’re important” “we are travelers together on this journey.” people may look at you funny. they may even laugh. down deep, however, you will know that it matters and you will know why...

all i want for christmas is a playstation 4

it’s that time of year. advertising is heavy with black friday offers, sparkling lights are showing up everywhere, and santa visits are being planned. folks have begun perfecting their latke recipes and spicy winter drinks are featured on menu boards at every corner. given this deluge of anticipatory holiday behavior, it’s not surprising that video game console makers are rolling out their new models. the consumer electronics association released their 20th annual ce purchase patterns study last week, suggesting that 74% of holiday gift buyers will procure consumer electronics for gifting. between gaming consoles, ipads, smart phones, and toys with electronic features, it’s beginning to look a lot like a plugged in, charged up holiday season.

last week, sony released the play station 4 and this week microsoft will release xbox one. the features in these consoles and the games they accommodate represent advances both terrific and terrifying. the units are smaller, lighter, and more powerful than ever, will set you back $400 and $500 respectively, and are highly versatile in their entertainment offerings. according to larry frum of cnn, the computing advances in these models offer game developers the ability to give a “film-like quality to the action in...games, creating a deeper feeling of immersion in the narrative.” of the play station 4, alex roth of techradar.com says, “housing some of the most powerful hardware ever to sit before a television, sony's new console is two sleek slabs of industrial design fused together for one purpose: living room dominance.” perfect.

just what we need. living rooms dominated by even more compelling technological offerings presenting characters and experiences that look and feel as real as those we encounter in our embodied lives. 

these reporters’ comments cause me to pause. they lead me to me wonder what narrative people might choose to offer up in their living rooms if they were to make such choices intentional. would we choose to have our living spaces dominated by the sound of war, the look of facebook, or the sites and soundtrack of grand theft auto?

a few years back my kids and i were waiting in a check out line when a high school student excitedly presented his mother with the newly released video game that was certain to be the “highlight of christmas.” because of what i do, i knew that this game was particularly gory and graphic in content. “this will be awesome mom!” the boy exclaimed. “we’ll be able to play this all day on christmas! it can be our goal to beat it before new years.” “awesome,” replied the mom. “it’ll be perfect since it’s supposed to rain.” all i could think about that day was a house, decorated for the holiday, warm and full of family, with the sound of guns and heart pumping music pouring into the earbuds of the kids playing this game for the week. as far as holiday soundtracks go, this is not one i would choose to have associated with my living room.

when i was growing up, many of my friends’ living rooms were places that were either avoided or disallowed. the “good furniture” lived there as did the pristine carpet and “precious moments” figurines in large glass-fronted curio cabinets. the living room was where grown ups hung out. where things felt formal and, well, grown up. i’m glad that things have changed. i think it’s wonderful that living rooms and family rooms have morphed into one. that living rooms are lived in. i’m also aware, however, that more and more of our living spaces have become dominated by visual and auditory noise. if televisions aren’t located in such spaces, laptops, ipads, and smart phones certainly are. tivo makes it possible to watch anything at any time and gaming systems bring unlimited entertainment options to life here-to-for only dreamed of. i wonder, in these spaces are we intentional about the options we offer for attentional domination or are we instead creating spaces where we gather but have our own individual experiences with our chosen device(s), typically focused on the screens (on our laps or on the wall) rather than on each other? we’re all allowed in the living room but we’re all having our own experiences there.

there’s nothing inherently evil about a technological gift. gaming systems offer family fun options. ipads and smart phones are here to stay and we need to know how to interact with them. if we, as a country and/or as a people, were gifted with self discipline...if we were moderate by nature...if we were capable of balancing our lives with things we want to do and things we know will grow us and mature us, there would be no blog post for me to write here. we’d play the entertaining game. we’d immerse ourselves for a time. and then we’d move on. we’d see who could get the high score and rib each other about it and then go out to throw the ball around. it wouldn’t matter if it was raining, mud would add to the fun. we’d move to the kitchen where we’d taste some foods with our full attention. we’d sit by the fire and stare into space, letting our minds wander about 

as we look toward the gatherings that will occur in these coming weeks may we all become bold about the way we encounter each other. may our spaces be dominated by a diversity of offerings...screens at times, board games at others, quiet moments, and times of so much laughing that our stomaches hurt. may we encourage ourselves and each other to lay the devices down, to turn the screens off, and to risk the unknown of encounter and be dominated by it.

what is most important

i am sometimes asked how to make a distinction between that which is important and that which is most important. it seems as though this question is being asked with greater frequency and urgency as we are confronted with the ever expanding ability to be “always” present to the never ending stream of tasks/information/forms of communication/people/possibilities that our worlds now offer us. when we can accomplish three things at once, why wouldn’t we? if we don’t HAVE to make a choice, why should we? by multi tasking and foregoing the need for making conscious decisions we live as though all things are the most important thing. i wonder if this isn’t muddling our brains and cheapening our experiences. sometimes one thing really is more important than another and, when we are forced to admit this and live accordingly, i believe we are grown, stretched, matured, formed. recently, this truth was driven home for me in a surprising way.

twenty two years ago i received the gift of being present with my dear friends paul and judy as the first of their oh-so-amazing children was born. daniel arrived, wrinkled and pink, and was lodged immediately into my heart in a way i can’t describe. separated by geography and full lives my connection with daniel was limited to occasional trips to visit his family and pictures at christmas and valentines day. when word arrived that he had proposed to his precious friend i couldn’t help but gush at them both on facebook, offering to do anything from cleaning bathrooms to assembling decorations to make their wedding easy and wonderful. amazingly, they accepted my offer and emails, photos, texts, and facebook messages began flying. by the time i arrived in illinois to pack up the u-haul of funky furniture, lawn games, photo booth supplies, and more we were planning on using to transform a michigan barn into an outdoor wedding wonderland i felt intimately connected to these two beautiful souls.

anyone who has hosted, been to, or even simply heard about a wedding in the last 10 years knows that they are rarely “let’s have cake and punch in the church basement” affairs any more. there are craft stores on every corner (of the city and the internet). endless internet searches yield eternal options for all things wedding. pinterest has amped up the options for do it yourself amazingness and along with that has come the reality that every wedding decoration, outfit, and/or ceremony tweak could turn you into an instant celebrity. it’s easy to fall into the trap of considering how the event will look via it’s tweets, hashtagged instagram photos, and facebook posts rather than planning a ceremony that has meaning, intention, and relational depth as the most important part of the planning.

daniel and erin had done a fantastic job of focusing on both the intimate reality of what the day would be accomplishing (marking their forever commitment to each other) and the fact that those closest to them were going to be gathered together and should get to play. donuts and cider after the outdoor ceremony, lawn games with areas to lounge and visit, an interactive collaging guestbook, s’mores at the fire pit. they wanted their friends to get to encounter each other. there were also plenty of personal d-i-y touches: braided yarn to drape on the trees near where the ceremony would be held, jam for each guest to take home, little rag “waving pennants” to shake when they kissed. daniel is a noted wedding photographer and he and erin have been to plenty of picture perfect weddings. they had attended to the details.

the day before the wedding the michigan fall provided a lovely setting for an outdoor rehearsal where sundresses and smiles were aplenty. as the day closed, however, the weather appeared to change. as night turned to morning many of us became glued to whichever weather source displayed the fewest rain drops during the hours leading up to and including the ceremony. when we arrived at the barn, it was misting heavily. soon, mist became rain and we could no longer find forecasts that pleased us. while event space coordinators and family members and friends all speculated and postulated about how the day might go, daniel and erin stayed cool and calm. 

one by one things needed to be moved inside. the cool welcome windows they’d painted. the ladders filled with funny photos, embroidery hoops, and tule. the lawn games were put back in the u-haul and the wedding photographer moved the action inside. as the time for the ceremony inched closer daniel and erin needed to make a decision. every one assumed that they would simply move the ceremony inside, to the barn, saying their vows either between the banquet tables where dinner would later be served or on the dance floor. it was raining steadily by then, the attendants had no coats or umbrellas, the musicians had instruments that shouldn’t get wet, the ground was muddy with no cemented aisle, erin had, of course, had her hair done. what bride doesn’t care about her hair? especially in the age of instagram, facebook, and pinterest.

at decision time (one hour before the wedding was to start) all but the actual ceremony items had been moved inside. the last decision needed to be made. the clouds were not lifting. where would they say “i do?” i pulled daniel and erin aside and asked them where they wanted to get married. without even missing a beat, and looking up to a face full of rain, erin said, “i want to get married outside.”  when i went to tell the others there were looks of surprise and wonder yet no one argued. sure, the decorations were important, people’s fancy wedding outfits were important (especially the women’s shoes which would sink deeply into the mud being created by the rain), the train of erin’s elegant gown was important, people’s warmth and comfort were important, but none of these things were the most important.

as people arrived at the barn, shaking off the rain they’d collected as they ran from their cars, they looked at me oddly when i told them not to get too comfortable. it was obvious that not everyone was instantly excited about heading back out into it. once we were all gathered i simply asked everyone to look around, to see what a beautifully assembled group we made. i shared that erin and daniel’s wish was to be married outside and reminded them that, as the most important people in their lives, we had the power to make that wish come true and that that was most important. far more important than looking dashing in the photos later.

let me tell you, not a single one of their devoted friends or family looked disappointed. we all cuddled up, headed out, and witnessed two young sages who cared not about what had been simply important all the days leading up to this one (the garlands, the fire wood and s’mores that were now packed away, the hair styles that had been meticulously created hours before) but, rather, about what was most important...saying what they needed to say and hearing what they needed to hear to and from each other in the setting that felt most true to who they were. as they emerged from their “i do’s” with muddy hems, soggy shoes, and raindrop/tear stained faces i don’t think a single one of us present was thinking about how we looked.

now that the photos are up on facebook it’s easy to forget how clear the most important thing was in that moment. it’s easy to look at my wet hair and running mascara and say “i look terrible” rather than to recognize i was so deeply present when that photo was taken that how i look did not and does not matter and to remember that i got to be a part of a sacred moment that, unlike a photograph, can never be taken away.  i’m so grateful that this is true and grateful that a record exists so that i can remember that giving up the important for the most important has rewards that no facebook album, instagram shot, or tweet can ever embody.

daniel and erin...you showed deep love and grace and maturity on that rainy day and you gifted everyone present with an experience where what mattered most was us and you and each other. where we were able to move past ourselves to create a shared space around what was truly most important...a community brought together. and boy was it fun...

the happy (soggy) couple...courtesy of deidre lynn photography

why (i believe) we should all care about call of duty

a few weeks back a popular pop singer twerked and swung (on a wrecking ball) her way into the top news story of the week/month. global crisis’? government shut downs? important, sure, but what was up with miley cyrus and robin thicke? who knew that skimpy garb, a lot of tongue, and a demolition scene could work so well to create a media storm of epic proportions.

today a similar media/tech event is occurring. the reality is, however, it’s likely to get noticed only by those who purchase and play first person shooter video games or those who watch the tech business trends. a huge majority of us might miss it altogether. today, the new call of duty ghosts video game is released.

a year ago, halo 4 brought in $220M in it’s first day on the market. one month later call of duty: black ops 2 was released and made $500M in sales on day one. one month ago grand theft auto 5 was released and brought in a whopping $800M in 24 hours. even if you factor in the $265M spent on developing and promoting the game, grand theft auto 5’s first day sales are unbelievable. how much will be spent, today, on a game? some are guessing this may be the first time in history a video game will bring in $1B on day one. 

if you could raise $1,000,000,000 in a day what would you do with the profits?

while this dollar amount is staggering, it does nothing to address the number of hours which will be spent attempting to master the game in these first few days of release. in addition, games such as this are immersive and stick with players. long after they leave the screen, the game is still occupying important regions of players’ internal dialogue and thought. those who attempt to be counter cultural or who cannot afford to give in to the frenzy will spend plenty of emotional capitol consoling themselves (understandably...the social pressures are great). what will be sacrificed as a result of these realities?

a common response i get from colleagues and peers when they hear about my efforts to get people thinking about their tech use is, “i don’t know anything about all that and i’m glad. i’m perfectly happy to never text. i have zero interest in twitter or instagram or facebook. i’ve never seen a video game and i’m all good with that.” while i understand the desire to live according to one’s own callings and values i also believe that we are all impacted by western culture’s obsession with, dependence upon, and blind acceptance of new technologies. for those of us who are aunts, uncles, educators, therapists/physicians, neighbors, cultural commentators, religious leaders, or friends (basically...all of us) there is a high need for us to be aware of the waters within which our nieces, nephews, students, clients/patients, neighbors, readers, congregations, and friends are swimming.

more resources than i can imagine will be spent spreading the word that call of duty ghosts is THE way to spend your time, energy, and money. trailers have been made to appeal to every taste and demographic in an effort to help everyone feel curious (i’ve linked them below to help you see what i mean). we don’t, however, have to drink the kool aid. in simply acknowledging and educating ones’ self about the pressure (internal and external) that results from living in a world that is hyper connected, hyper entertained, and hyper about the “new new new,” we can be better responsive to what is going on in those around us. we may never feel tempted to lose ourselves in a game but plenty of those around us do face such temptation and could benefit greatly from loving folks who are willing to help them find pleasure, release, entertainment, and camaraderie in their embodied lives. even if we do choose to play, we can be aware of how much of our many resources we give to the game and how much we might want to reserve for other endeavors. we can hold ourselves accountable to having as many experiences in the real world as in the cyber world of game play and we can invite others into conversations that might help them do the same.

to be responsible global citizens i believe we must be engaging in conversations with each other. especially those others that are different from ourselves. our conversations are benefitted when they come from places of insight and knowledge, are moderated by empathy and respect, and initiated from love. i wish, today, for many such conversations which begin with call of duty and end with connection, shared thoughts and feelings, and love.

to see how the industry effectively markets to all demographics, check these out:

swinging good fun trailer: http://www.callofduty.com/ghosts/media/liveactiontrailer 

tea time trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1TO_GJpj6MY 

hip hop/rap trailer: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tUBcYogq-3M

nostalgic trailer:  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zxnx3W-HA18

experience and review

i am a person who loves to explore. i consider myself a collector of experiences. some people have albums of stamps or shelves of china tea cups. i have friends who collect rare musical instruments and others who have sunk hours and dollars into the taxidermy trophies that bedeck their walls. me? i gather memories and embodied times of feeling unbelievably alive, alone in a completely unknown-to-me place.

the treat i give myself when i travel to speak is a day or two in the nearest big city. i love to wander, completely anonymously, around such cities looking for opportunities to experience the “normal.” i have lingered in my booth at an amish buffet, soaking up as much about the culture as possible from my 18 year old, newly married, recently “church-joined” server. i have stumbled upon concerts by bands i’d never hear any other way. i have stumbled upon political rallies and participated in improv everywhere events. one time i took a red eye just to buy myself 9 hours to race through washington d.c., trying to see as much as i could without stopping to eat or sit.

i am always rewarded by these adventures. always. even when i don’t feel like i find much of note, i consistently encounter kind souls and am given opportunities to truly see people who might be missed in their own environments. i have learned that museum docents are eager to share what they love about their cities. they are often, actually, quite astute about suggesting thoughtful places of beauty and complexity to experience music, food, and creative spaces that no guide book may ever direct me to. i’ve come to know that the best, and most authentic, ethnic food can often be found by asking the service folks i encounter or the people of color that i meet on the street. parks offer fantastic opportunities to get the real feel of families in the area and coffee shops in the business district (the old ones that have been there forever, not the ones donned with mermaids on their crest) provide excellent insight into the energy of the city. 

recently i spent a couple of days in kansas city after a speaking gig in rural missouri. it was easy, in the small town i spoke in, to find where the locals ate. i simply drove through the small down town area and went in where all the cars were. i was rewarded with amazing food and fantastic conversation. in the big city, however, it isn’t often that straight forward. in light of this, i began my time in kansas city by visiting a restaurant that was highly reviewed online and that was far enough away from my hotel that i’d get a great overview of the city while i walked. seated and handed a menu, i did what i always do and asked my server to bring me what she thought i should have if i only had one shot at their food and was a vegetarian. immediately, i knew i had hit the jack pot. not only was this amazing woman working the floor that night but she also owned the restaurant. over the course of my meal sheri picked up on spoken and silent cues and ended up providing me with an itinerary of kansas city experiences i would have missed entirely if i would have used yelp as my only guide. she eschewed the highly rated vegetarian restaurants suggesting, instead, the oldest one in the city, citing i’d get a real feel of the culture by visiting this 20 year old establishment in the basement of the downtown unitarian church. she shared the history of the art museum and told me about the planes area in general. the next morning, prepped with her suggestions, i headed out to explore the city like a local. i spent hours in the amazing art museum (which i would have missed entirely had i relied on online suggestions for places to visit), stopped in at long established funky vintage shops, and ate at an indian restaurant that has ruined me, i fear forever, for samosas (more on that below).

before i left the restaurant i mentioned that i would be eternally glad that yelp had directed me to her and her fantastic establishment. by that point i was, quite literally, in tears, exhausted/exhilarated from the work of the days before and feeling gratitude for such a meaningful encounter and delectable meal. what followed surprised me. we launched into an involved discussion about online reviews and i found words for feelings i’ve had for quite some time.

gifts often come with curses. that which is helpful can often also hurt. ask anyone who’s particularly physically beautiful or brilliantly smart.  i feel this way about online reviews. sites which aggregate people’s opinions about public spaces, experiences, or people come with positives and negatives. they offer a fine place to find out general ideas about quality, ambiance, and experiences and yet, at their core, they are deeply personal and lack the standards we normally apply for judging accuracy and quality. the internet offers boundless opportunities to disregard such standards, providing easy access to limitless opinions about everything we encounter. never mind if the reviewer is knowledgable or particularly suited to comment upon that which she reviews. don’t bother checking references as to an author’s credentials or knowledge base, if it’s found on the “reviews” tab it must be reliable.

really?

we all know the tendency to want to plan ahead and make wise choices. we have, ourselves, or know someone who has, spent hours reading hints and tips about disneyland experiences in order to maximize a vacation. we pay attention to negative reviews and over-inflate the claims made in positive ones regarding places to stay and eat. there’s something powerful about knowing what to avoid and what to order and where all the “hip” reviewers are spending their time.

here’s the problem though: people who write reviews are just people who write reviews. it is not as though double blind, peer reviewed research has taken place in spaces such as yelp, trip advisor, or rate my professor.com. these are simply places within which personal bias and opinion reign supreme. reviews are written from emotionally charged experiences, positive or negative, and are frequently posted without editing even by those who post them. corrective experiences rarely get reflected later and, even if a reviewer does change their opinion, few take the time to remove old posts. someone suggesting avoidance of a restaurant because of their own terrible experience may be likely to have a terrible experience where ever they go. a student who posts an unfavorable review of a professor may do so to poison the pool of public opinion because of actions taken by the professor that the student simply didn’t like. a review that dishes on the ills of an establishment’s ambiance may be written by someone who only feels comfortable in rooms full of buzzing, overhead florescent lighting and free from all other commotion.

don’t get me wrong, i don’t believe that online reviews and the spaces that hold them are all bad. i am a firm believer that they can give some general ideas and jumping off points. they can even help clarify what kind of information might be helpful to collect before making choices about all manner of actions and experiences. they are not, however, sure fire paths to adventure, risk, experiences, or, even, quality. as much as they may exist for personal advice and direction, they also exist as receptacles of unfettered reactive opinion and, of this, we must be aware.

when my fabulous kansas city server, sheri, and i began speaking about reviews, she made a great point. “when we come to the table, after a guest has taken a few bites of their meal, and ask how everything is, THIS is the point i wish someone would register their review. if they did i could really show them what we’re about. that’s the point at which i can help their experience change. an online review gives me no opportunity like that.” this is so deeply thought provoking. writing a review out of our satisfaction or lack there of is so much easier than engaging with the people, in person, who are shaping our experiences. it’s vulnerable to say we aren’t really pleased. sometimes it’s equally vulnerable to say that the taste of the entree blew us away, the depth of the roast warmed us, or the feeling of the created space brought us deep peace. people might look at us funny. they might not know what to do or say. especially if we’re disappointed, we may be met with defensive annoyance or outright frustration. and yet, isn’t this what experience is about? taking risks and engaging in life in real and embodied ways. 

i would not give a favorable review of the fried crickets i ate in thailand nor would i suggest that someone wanting a live-food based breakfast eat at the amazing local greasy spoon. i don’t choose hotels by the same guidelines as some of my more camping happy peers do. i don’t look to action film lovers for entertainment advice. even still, there’s something to be said for stretching myself into spaces i don’t normally inhabit. trying a restaurant that i would never imagine frequenting. listening to music or watching a movie that is completely out of my genre. going where the locals go rather than where the tourist books suggest. i would encourage everyone who visits thailand to try fried crickets. even though i hated them.

i would also encourage everyone who is tempted to write a negative review to sit on your words for a few hours (at the minimum). consider your motives. are you really hoping to help others make wise choices or are you wanting to punish someone for a way in which you felt mistreated by them? it’s so much easier to rant into the air than to bring forward respectfully constructed complaints face to face. perhaps consider this now so that the next time an experience begins to sour you might have the opportunity to register your “review” right then, when the situation might be remedy-able, rather than later when no one has the ability to make amends.

a recent tweet in my feed read, “remember that the review you’re reading on yelp was written by a person who writes reviews on yelp.” (@andylassner) this is my hope in writing this post. that we would all remember as we read, write, and/or consider the constant flood of evaluative comments rolling before our eyes that we are all human. we all do amazing things and stupid things, have successes and failures. and we all hope for grace amidst them all. 

p.s. if you’re ever in kansas city, visit the brick. if you don’t feel adventurous enough to let sheri or her fine staff bring you what they think, no know, you’ll love, then order the veggie burger with roasted garlic goat cheese and grilled portabellas with sweet potato fries and an kansas city brewed ipa. also well worth a visit in k.c. are eden’s alley and chai shai. the handwritten chalkboard sign outside of chai shai claimed they serve the best samosas in the world and, right now, i am inclined to agree. in bolivar missouri, make sure and check out the main street for amazing mediterranian fare (and tell zach c i sent you) and el rodeo for the most melty cheese enchilada imaginable.

movement making (hands free friday)

the word “movement” is a noun which is defined as both: 1) an act of changing physical location or position, and 2) a group of people working together to advance their shared political, social, or artistic ideas. i don’t know about you, but i’d like to motivate such changes and work. at the talks i give i am frequently asked how i expect to make even a small impact on humanity’s technology use when the tendency toward over-use is so culturally normalized and rewarded. for years i have attempted to answer this question in two ways: 1) by accepting every invitation possible to engage this topic in meaningful ways, and 2) by attempting to live a life that is boldly counter cultural and to live it in a way that might inspire others to do the same. 

recently i did an experiment in an airport. i chose to leave both my phone and computer in my backpack during the entire length of my three hour lay over. i further decided to take every opportunity i could find to simply look up and around and make eye contact when possible. what i noticed was interesting. i felt almost self conscious not adopting the new shared posture of cell phone gazing...head down, hands together, holding said object about 12 inches from the face, scrolling/swiping/typing. when i found others without phones they were frequently reading or talking with a travel partner. much of the time, however, was silent. over two thirds (trust me, i counted) of the people at the gate had headphones in and almost half had both cell phones and computers open. both customers in line in front of me at the bookstore completed their entire transactions without ever stopping their phone conversations. eye contact was rare and smiling rarer still.

i’ve carried out similar small experiments over the past several years. each and every time i learn something about myself and, often, about the people with whom i am sharing space. over all i notice a lot less action and a lot more isolation. less looking up and more occupied hands. less opportunity for noticing anything that isn’t on the screen. even in groups, people are transported away, listening to their own soundtrack or carrying on conversations via voice or text with people not physically present.

so i’d like to start a movement. one that gets us thinking about our physical locations and positions and one that gets us working together to advance a shared idea. the idea? that moderating our technology use in order to make our selves, our relationships, and our brains healthier and more complex is possible. not only possible, but fun. it might mean re-discovering a talent you’ve forgotten you had. do you know how to “fly” bottle caps or juggle or sketch? have you maintained your ability to write in cursive or to play cat’s cradle? can you cook by taste and feel without looking up a recipe online? when was the last time you let your hands run over brick, polished wood, stones, the dirt? or it might mean learning something new altogether.

i recently tried to keep my phone in my hand during a texas waltz lesson with my nephew. i wanted to take pictures to record the experience. unfortunately, i got far less out of the lesson than i would have had i simply been present to it. i’d have more than (terrible) photos, i’d have skills i’d truly learned (it’s hard to move and take photos). how many times has this been true for me? similarly, how many times have i stuffed ear buds in my ears and missed out on time to hear the sounds around me or to think thoughts that come from my own mind rather than from words issuing forth from my phone? i want movement from these habits. for myself.

and so i introduce you to the way i am creating that movement and i invite you to join in and to invite your friends. today i launch “hands free friday” on facebook, instagram, and twitter. you can find the facebook campaign/event here: http://www.facebook.com/handsfreefriday, the instagram page at handsfreefriday and i will be tweeting about it on my twitter feed (doreendodgenm) with #handsfreefriday. 

the basic idea is to come up with something that you can engage yourself with/in that requires you to have your hands free of your phone. this could be a small task/activity or a lingering experience. challenge yourself to really notice what it feels like to be free of screens for the time and to notice how others engage you or not. perhaps you can gather some friends and coworkers and challenge each other to spend part of the day without your phones or to pull off a fun stunt that you could never do with a digital device in your hands. how about an office egg and spoon race or finger painting with pudding? there are hosts of stretches you can only do with partners and playing catch is fun for folks of all ages. what about a meal out where everyone stacks their phones, face down, in the center of the table for the entire evening?

ideally i’d love to encourage you to write about your experience. it doesn’t need to be long or detailed. for example, i’ve been doing a cartwheel challenge where i try to do cartwheels in as many unusual locations as possible and keep track. i don’t write a lot, just where and when each cartwheel was executed. there’s something about taking pen to paper and acknowledging an experience. later, if and as you’d like, tweet or comment on the facebook page about what you’ve done by way of encouraging others to consider a few moments or more without their phones. if you have a friend present who has a phone/camera, see if they might take a photo of you to post later on instagram or facebook. the goal, however, isn’t to post...it’s to experience. posting just might serve as a way of honoring your personal challenge and inspiring others. 

i would like move and to invite you to do the same. move. toward new postures of openness. toward new ways of moderating. toward new ways of experiencing our hands  and how things feel and the world around us. join me, will you? and pass it on...

http://www.facebook.com/handsfreefriday

twitter: doreendodgenm  #handsfreefriday

instagram:  handsfreefriday

digital concierge

every car i’ve ever owned has come to be mine based upon two criteria: 1) the best safety record for lowest price and 2) the number of people and things i’ve hoped to haul. in the past 12 years this has translated into me driving a very generic vehicle capable of safely carrying my children and their friends and lots and lots of stuff. now that my kids are launched and the car i’ve transported them in is coming to the end of it’s safe and repair free life, it’s time for a different car. and so, i’ve been car shopping. since this is a task that i particularly dread and despise, i’ve been conducting most of my shopping and research online.  

tonight, when looking for information regarding an international crisis, i noticed that the very car i’ve been leaning toward was advertised on two of the international news sites i visited. at first i thought, “this must be a sign.” and then i thought, “this isn’t a sign but it IS an indication that this must be a sought after (therefore, solid) choice.” and then i realized, this was neither a sign nor an indication of quality. it was, instead, a response to my recent keyboard strikes. even i, an outspoken advocate for awareness around the power of technology, media, and advertising to unconsciously shape our preferences, fell prey to today’s sophisticated marketing tactics. these ads, which i quickly labeled reliable sources of data for my decision making, were not put on my screen by consumer advocacy groups who have my driving safety in mind. instead, they appeared based upon data collection and the algorithms that result from every keyboard strike i make.

the entire car shopping experience has led me to notice how many times specific items i’ve looked at online show up in the ad spaces of the sites i frequent. who knew that the very dress i’d considered purchasing was “popular” enough to show up on the bbc’s home page? it’s interesting that coupons for products i have sitting in my digital carts for more than a week begin showing up in my inbox and in ad spaces on my screens. it’s amazing how perfectly tailored to me my entire online experience has become. i hardly have to work anymore. music sites suggest entire stations based upon my listening history, push notifications make it possible for special deals to be texted to me as i walk by the very stores i’ve frequented in the past, and my preferred online news source feeds me the “tech” news at the top of the screen. netflix and hulu provide me a never ending list of movies and television shows that are “just like” the ones i’ve already watched. 

given the increased time i spend in screen based spaces, all of this personalization creates room in me for a problem of significant proportion.

my devices’ abilities to constantly cater to my own interests leaves me at risk of becoming a self absorbed, myopic loner. this risk increases if i become: 1) excessive in my technology use, 2) ignorant of my own internal process, and/or 3) withdrawn from opportunities to engage in meaningful relationships with people, ideas, and places that are different from those i naturally gravitate toward. sadly, who among us doesn’t fit in one of those three categories?

as humans we have propensities to migrate toward the familiar, to look for validation, and to seek comfort in the spaces we inhabit. there are few things more comforting than clicking “play” on a movie you’ll likely get predictably lost in or being validated for a purchase you’re considering. 

this constant cozy and familiar reality, however,  begs the question: what is the result of a life lived only comfortably? what is the developmental effect of validation that is built upon one’s own preferences and history rather than on standards of health, discernment, integration, and complexity in all its best forms? basically, i want to know how my emotional, intellectual, and even physical health will be impacted by living in relationship to devices that keep me comfortable and “safe” by providing a constant concierge service based entirely upon my own limited experiences and preferences?

i am spending today being aware of how skewed my tehcnological experiences have become. my favorite news source just emailed me an article similar to one i read there yesterday. my maps app accurately guesses half typed addresses based on where i’ve been recently. in advance of a trip i’ve purchased airfare for, hotels are offering me deals based on past stays. music apps suggest bands similar to those i listen to currently. all the while i experience the reality that i can have it my way, all day, without even having to ask. no wonder the embodied world i live in, with it’s real people who can’t read my mind or who chose not to cater to my preferences, feels difficult and stretching at times. 

and so, i’m ignoring the reinforcing ads on my screen and heading to a car dealership to talk to a real (flawed) person as a real (flawed, impatient, hesitant to want to encounter car sales people) person. there i will get information about a car which i will ultimately chose or dismiss based upon a complex formula of feeling to quality to safety to how easily my feet reach the pedals because, while shopping online is certainly more convenient, it provides far fewer opportunities to grow.