Had an epiphany the other day. Was thinking back to the 90's and remembering how much healthier my mind felt back then. Physically, I was more fit, too, but what I yearn for the most is the way I (we?) moved through each day concerning myself with only a few basic tenants of happiness. Have you ever driven or steered a motorboat? The idea seems elementary or trivial, but once you position yourself at the back of that small vessel you realize how dreamy that feeling of gliding across smooth water can be, like entering a different plane of travel. I drove a boat in the early 90's at Six Mile Lake in northern Minnesota. I'm not talking about being a mere passenger on a boat. I'm talking about being in complete control of it, from the slow push off as to not leave a wake near the pre-dawn shore to the subtle denouement of easing it back to the pier after being across the lake in what felt like a trip to outer space.
That's what life was like for me in the 90's. I wasn't obligated to feign interest in what someone 900 miles away had for lunch. I didn't feel compelled to upload a photograph of my cat wearing a hat. And I certainly didn't have room in my schedule for the constant checking-checking-checking of my phone for Twitter feeds and Facebook updates. Not like I do now. Not like I do now...
The obvious cure for my blues is to eliminate my Facebook account and delete Twitter from my iPhone. But I'm afraid it ain't that easy. Not for someone like me. Because I consider myself a bit of a tech nerd. I like staying in touch with new things. I like playing with new toys and experiment with new ways to explore the internet. I love being entertained. Trust me, I'll spare no expense for good entertainment.
So I guess my problem is the way socialization has evolved in light of these technological advances. I've always been shy and somewhat introverted in social settings. I grew up with minimal self-confidence and most of the time preferred to keep to myself. I'm good with people, but am repelled and disgusted with fake, flaky, plastic affection. I never had the stomach for insincere niceties. And so now when I check-check-check the status updates, et al, it's all I see. And when the meaningless barrage of so many clicks on the Like button become too much for me to endure all I want to do is jump in a boat and go fishing. Except this time I'll probably take my phone.
I'll always feel that itchy urge to broadcast to the world everything that I do. I'm not going to fight it. I'm just a little weary about what it's doing to our world. But more importantly, what it's doing to our senses of adventure and intimacy.
So anyway, you guys check out Pinterest yet?