People are very busy, with themselves and their things. Everything people need for sustenance and entertainment and communication is contained in our massive suburban houses. Screens of all shapes and sizes shoot images and information into our eyeballs. Why go outside and take a walk down to the corner store, or chat with a neighbor? You can get whatever you want delivered and you can text your friend. If there happens to be a reason to leave the house, people take their car of course. They travel on highways of immense girth, speeding over wastelands of noise and pollution. Inside the car, people transform into simple-minded machines, hypnotized by their music and determined to reach their destination as fast as possible, oblivious to their surroundings. Cars have destroyed the social, nurturing neighborhood of past generations.
All of these screens and cars leaves no time for two important human activities: socializing and thinking. In the NYTimes this weekend, Pico Iyer writes how some people are choosing to escape the daily madness to pursue these activities (http://www.nytimes.com/2012/01/01/opinion/sunday/the-joy-of-quiet.html?src=me&ref=general). Iyer describes Internet and computer vacations, which are used by many individuals and corporations to increase productivity by giving people time to think critically, versus the usual swamping with information. I agree that it's essential to spend a little time doing some pure human endeavor each day. For me, a run or a bike ride does the trick. I refuse to run with an mp3 player because I've found I don't feel nearly refreshed upon returning if I listen to music while running. I prefer my run to be uncontaminated by the digital world. I could probably do with a lot more "silent time"...perhaps I'll try meditation.
I'm currently reading Walden by Henry David Thoreau, which was written 167 years ago but is immediately relevant to our time. The book is spectacular--I could choose so many passages to quote, but here's a straightforward one from the beginning:
"Most men, even in this comparatively free country, through mere ignorance or mistake, are so occupied with the factitious cares and superfluously coarse labors of life that its finer fruits cannot be plucked by them. Their fingers, from excessive toil, are too clumsy and tremble too much for that. Actually, the laboring man has not leisure for a true integrity day by day; he cannot afford to sustain the manliest relations to men; his labor would be depreciated in the market. He has no time to be anything but a machine. How can he remember well his ignorance--which his growth requires--who has so often to use his knowledge? We should feed and clothe him gratuitously sometimes, and recruit him with our cordials, before we judge of him. The finest qualities of our nature, like the bloom on fruits, can be preserved only by the most delicate handling. Yet we do not treat ourselves nor one another thus tenderly."
From this passage, we see that the workaholic American culture is not new. Working hard makes people think they are accomplishing and learning things, but are they really? When I was firefighting, we spoke of "tunnel vision"--you're trying so hard to do something and are so engrossed in one tiny detail, you miss all the other important events around you. Hard work, by itself, could mean you are tackling a problem like a brute, impervious to alternative ideas. Stubbornly pursuing a goal just to "finish it" is just as passive as letting information flow over you without responding. I think wisdom is acquired by relaxing so you're capable of analyzing all that you sense. You have to step to the side of the information tidal wave for a moment, get out of the car, escape the cubicle--if you want to create new ideas, if you want to be human. Philosophy, science, religion--all the thoughts and concepts central to our humanity, were conceived during leisure time, which technological advancements gave us the opportunity to enjoy. We cannot allow our current technology to override its ancient purpose--to give us time to think.
Here's some minimalist music (Philip Glass is coming to Ann Arbor later this month to preview a revival of Einstein on the Beach that will debut in France in March of this year)
And here's a clip from the Breakfast Club, my new favorite movie that I discovered over winter break:
All of these screens and cars leaves no time for two important human activities: socializing and thinking. In the NYTimes this weekend, Pico Iyer writes how some people are choosing to escape the daily madness to pursue these activities (http://www.nytimes.com/2012/01/01/opinion/sunday/the-joy-of-quiet.html?src=me&ref=general). Iyer describes Internet and computer vacations, which are used by many individuals and corporations to increase productivity by giving people time to think critically, versus the usual swamping with information. I agree that it's essential to spend a little time doing some pure human endeavor each day. For me, a run or a bike ride does the trick. I refuse to run with an mp3 player because I've found I don't feel nearly refreshed upon returning if I listen to music while running. I prefer my run to be uncontaminated by the digital world. I could probably do with a lot more "silent time"...perhaps I'll try meditation.
I'm currently reading Walden by Henry David Thoreau, which was written 167 years ago but is immediately relevant to our time. The book is spectacular--I could choose so many passages to quote, but here's a straightforward one from the beginning:
"Most men, even in this comparatively free country, through mere ignorance or mistake, are so occupied with the factitious cares and superfluously coarse labors of life that its finer fruits cannot be plucked by them. Their fingers, from excessive toil, are too clumsy and tremble too much for that. Actually, the laboring man has not leisure for a true integrity day by day; he cannot afford to sustain the manliest relations to men; his labor would be depreciated in the market. He has no time to be anything but a machine. How can he remember well his ignorance--which his growth requires--who has so often to use his knowledge? We should feed and clothe him gratuitously sometimes, and recruit him with our cordials, before we judge of him. The finest qualities of our nature, like the bloom on fruits, can be preserved only by the most delicate handling. Yet we do not treat ourselves nor one another thus tenderly."
From this passage, we see that the workaholic American culture is not new. Working hard makes people think they are accomplishing and learning things, but are they really? When I was firefighting, we spoke of "tunnel vision"--you're trying so hard to do something and are so engrossed in one tiny detail, you miss all the other important events around you. Hard work, by itself, could mean you are tackling a problem like a brute, impervious to alternative ideas. Stubbornly pursuing a goal just to "finish it" is just as passive as letting information flow over you without responding. I think wisdom is acquired by relaxing so you're capable of analyzing all that you sense. You have to step to the side of the information tidal wave for a moment, get out of the car, escape the cubicle--if you want to create new ideas, if you want to be human. Philosophy, science, religion--all the thoughts and concepts central to our humanity, were conceived during leisure time, which technological advancements gave us the opportunity to enjoy. We cannot allow our current technology to override its ancient purpose--to give us time to think.
Here's some minimalist music (Philip Glass is coming to Ann Arbor later this month to preview a revival of Einstein on the Beach that will debut in France in March of this year)
And here's a clip from the Breakfast Club, my new favorite movie that I discovered over winter break:
No comments:
Post a Comment