When I was in college, I tried for a while to take a Sabbath from technology. Being the world-wise college student I was, I had avoided Friday classes, and so I attempted to shun all tech - TVs, Computers, etc. - from my life from Thursday dinner-time until Friday dinner-time. Of course, I made some exceptions for a group project meeting, or a friend, or I did some work so I could be gone all weekend, and little by little, it faded away. At the time, I don't think I was on Facebook yet, and I doubt I'd ever sent a text on my black-and-white screened bar phone.
I haven't ever tried that experiment again, partly because my livelihood is now so tied to tech. Also, the online space is where my creativity flows. Not so much here (yet), but in the mad alchemy that is coding: taking a pile of data and organizing it, reworking it, until it takes my desired shape.
All this is preamble to discussing Paul Miller's final piece about his year-long sabbatical from the internet.
I remember reading about Paul's journey early on, and being a bit skeptical of it, but reading his final wrap up brought me back to the college experience I opened with. His descriptions of his first few months away reminded me of the beginnings of Lent and the start of a New Year. I came out like gang-busters this past Lent with a "no french fries" rule, designed to keep me away from fast-food joints, however, mid-way through, I decided that if I went to Wendy's, but got the salad with my burger I'd be OK. A few weeks later, I got the baked potato....
His closing paragraph reminded me of an even earlier college experience, as he tries to explain to his niece why he hadn't been Skyping with her. At the Wesley Foundation, I remember Alex telling us about the early church's Desert Fathers, and how they would break a fast when hosting visitors, because hospitality was more important than their asceticism. If I walked in the door on Friday and a buddy wanted to play a video game, I was there (I use the term "hospitality" loosely). I danced around fry-based options when hanging with other people rather than limit their choices, too.
Being a early-adopting child of the 80s technophile who programs for a living, I am skeptical of people who analogize simplification with less technology or less internet. Throughout my life, I heard over and over that the things I loved the most were "bad" for me. Video games, the web, video games, cell phones, social media, smart phones, and did I mention video games? Technology is important to me, and the ways it connects folks is important. My first two best friends were made through the weekly ritual of Friday afternoon Nintendo. The web sparked a creative fire in me that continues to this day. And, I know that I would most likely have lost touch with most all of my college friends were it not for Facebook (I'm bad at calling). I know there are ways to overuse or misuse all these innovations, but the good should outweigh the bad. Paul gets there too, when he says, "But at least I'll know that it's not the internet's fault. I'll know who's responsible, and who can fix it."
He doesn't stretch any farther than that, though. There is acknowledgment of failure, but no reaching beyond. I had a similar feeling at the end of my little techno-Sabbath experiment. Just an "Oh well, back to drawing board" mentality, which is certainly a feature of the geeky set. We're rooted in the scientific method, which is good, but we come on too strong sometimes. Maybe I shouldn't be too hard on him though. I got an email the other day reminding me my 10th college reunion is on the horizon, so it did take me a while to start rethinking this.
I tried to get myself exercising for years by setting lubriciously early alarms or coming up with crazy schemes. Finally one day, I got up after dinner and went for a walk. It may not be the best time to go out, but it's certainly better than nothing. And the reasons I'm still doing it: an innovative piece of tech on my wrist that doesn't let me lie about what I did today, an app on my phone that knows how fast I'm moving, and connections to those same Facebook friends who keep me motivated.
