I'm worried that I'm growing up in a generation that will one day no longer make eye contact.
Don't get me wrong; I feel privileged to be a Millennial. I think we're one of the most important generations in some time (check out NPR's TED Radio Hour “The Next Greatest Generation?”).
I feel that way for a plethora of reasons. We Millennials are right on the cusp of an extremely pertinent time in history, having been born before the internet and smartphones, but young enough to embrace these new amazing tools to use to our advantage. We aren't too old to know how to use them, nor too young to be used by them, being that we remember a time when there was no internet, no smart phones, and no GPS. A time before Twitter, before Instagram, before Myspace, Facebook, MyFace or SpaceBook...
And oh, what a precious time. Precious, you say?
Yes, precious. And not in a creepy, Gollum-y way.
So I've had a crazy week. As I sit and write this in the wonderfully nostalgic and popular Jake'sBrewbar in Littleton, Colorado (a coffee/pubhouse where one can easily imagine the ghosts of C.S. Lewis, Tolkien, Williams and the Inklings meeting in a corner, reading aloud segments of their masterpieces to each other over a delicious pint and pipe), I think back to only a few weeks ago.
I was hustling to produce some new videos for the First Friday art event put on by Converge Denver, the singular and uniquely wonderful co-working space where I'm a member. I was a featured artist, and I had to quickly put together two videos: one introducing my band Torgo! (originally from West Texas) to the Denver community, and one premiering my latest film, a science fiction concept called “Tachyon”.
Being a film maker and musician, my livelihood requires the use of modern technology. I edit everything on fancy editing software and back it all up to a big, multi-drive system. I used my “smartphone” (ironic quotes because that phone was more of an idiot) to establish meetings, setup shoots in my calendar, take notes for film/music ideas, and everything in between. Grover, my blue Subaru Forrester, would get me to and from said meetings/shoots.
But something happened that changed everything for me, temporarily.
My computer crashed, completely. Dead.
The next day, my phone died. Forever. And I was glad to be rid of it. Never, ever buy a MotoX. Don't do it. Save yourself the permanent headache it will inevitably cause.
As I curiously stared at it, smashed into pieces on my kitchen counter, my first thought was “That looks cool, I should take a picture of it with my phone...wait...”
My friend Jana at Converge laughed and told me, “Look out, it always comes in threes.” My response was, “Well, it's either my car next, or my sweet dog Lokibear, and I'm not anywhere close to being ready to lose my little furry best friend.”
I guess it was a self-fulfilled prophecy, because a few days later, my blue metallic friend (named after a famous furry little friend) crapped out, and Grover is currently in the car shop.
I feel that way for a plethora of reasons. We Millennials are right on the cusp of an extremely pertinent time in history, having been born before the internet and smartphones, but young enough to embrace these new amazing tools to use to our advantage. We aren't too old to know how to use them, nor too young to be used by them, being that we remember a time when there was no internet, no smart phones, and no GPS. A time before Twitter, before Instagram, before Myspace, Facebook, MyFace or SpaceBook...
And oh, what a precious time. Precious, you say?
Yes, precious. And not in a creepy, Gollum-y way.
So I've had a crazy week. As I sit and write this in the wonderfully nostalgic and popular Jake'sBrewbar in Littleton, Colorado (a coffee/pubhouse where one can easily imagine the ghosts of C.S. Lewis, Tolkien, Williams and the Inklings meeting in a corner, reading aloud segments of their masterpieces to each other over a delicious pint and pipe), I think back to only a few weeks ago.
I was hustling to produce some new videos for the First Friday art event put on by Converge Denver, the singular and uniquely wonderful co-working space where I'm a member. I was a featured artist, and I had to quickly put together two videos: one introducing my band Torgo! (originally from West Texas) to the Denver community, and one premiering my latest film, a science fiction concept called “Tachyon”.
Being a film maker and musician, my livelihood requires the use of modern technology. I edit everything on fancy editing software and back it all up to a big, multi-drive system. I used my “smartphone” (ironic quotes because that phone was more of an idiot) to establish meetings, setup shoots in my calendar, take notes for film/music ideas, and everything in between. Grover, my blue Subaru Forrester, would get me to and from said meetings/shoots.
But something happened that changed everything for me, temporarily.
My computer crashed, completely. Dead.
The next day, my phone died. Forever. And I was glad to be rid of it. Never, ever buy a MotoX. Don't do it. Save yourself the permanent headache it will inevitably cause.
As I curiously stared at it, smashed into pieces on my kitchen counter, my first thought was “That looks cool, I should take a picture of it with my phone...wait...”
My friend Jana at Converge laughed and told me, “Look out, it always comes in threes.” My response was, “Well, it's either my car next, or my sweet dog Lokibear, and I'm not anywhere close to being ready to lose my little furry best friend.”
I guess it was a self-fulfilled prophecy, because a few days later, my blue metallic friend (named after a famous furry little friend) crapped out, and Grover is currently in the car shop.
Today, a few hours ago, my beloved iPod Classic, my last and only working electronic device that keeps me going every day and inspires me with my collection of over 40,000 songs, committed a tragic and untimely suicide.
As a result, I found myself completely and utterly UNPLUGGED. No internet. No phone calls. No texting. Even...gasp...no Facebook or Twitter!
No computer for a while put my job at jeopardy, being that I need it to edit the videos I shoot for my clients. To put it simply, I found myself somewhat shipwrecked.
It's actually pretty serious, because it's not cheap to live in Denver, and without a job to make money, I can't pay my rent! As I'm sure you are aware, replacing these dead devices isn't cheap...especially the car.
I got my computer's hard drive replaced, allowing me to get back to work, and write this very article. So that's a huge step. However, I still have no phone, car, or (tear) iPod. A musician without his iPod is like a Pirate Captain without his trusty eyeglass. Or sword. Or ship. Hence: shipwrecked.
But through this experience, something new has occurred that I'm beginning to notice.
I'm more present.
A conversation with a friend, such as I just had here at Jake's with Ryan, a super-talented Cinematographer I frequently have the pleasure of working with, isn't interrupted by a vibrating device in my pocket, crying for my attention. I'm not worried about battery life. I've stopped habitually checking my pocket for texts or facebook updates.
I'm actually here, in the present, for now. My face isn't buried in a device every time I'm bored, or every time there's a lull in the conversation. My mind doesn't drift to where else I think I should be, or what's going on online, or where I think I need to be next. I'm living in the moment, engaging with the people I'm currently with, and making eye contact with them.
I'm biking more. I was already an avid biker; I always take my beautiful red Schwinn Cruiser, Bernie (named after both SynthWizard Bernie Worrell and GrooveMaster David Byrne) anywhere within 10 miles as a rule. Why wouldn't I in a city as beautiful as Denver? But right now I have no choice but to bike everywhere. It's a perfect excuse.
By doing so, I feel more centered, more connected to my surroundings, and more in tune with the Spirit of Creativity. Were I just driving everywhere in Grover, I'd be prone to outbursts of anger due to traffic, prone to wasting money on gas, and even likely prone to potential death due to an accident resulting from checking my phone when I should be focused on the road. How often do you do that in a day? I must confess, before last week, I probably did that a few times a day. Stoplights were just too long, so I had to check my phone. What was I thinking? I wasn't. I was on auto-pilot.
All this to say, I've found great Peace in this transitional period without electronic technology. After a moment of freaking out, I went on a bike ride and instantly found deep Joy in the beauty laying just “out my backdoor”. I'm now doing it every day. I'm even running again. But I used to run with my phone, in case someone needed me.
Now I don't even think about it.
As a result, I found myself completely and utterly UNPLUGGED. No internet. No phone calls. No texting. Even...gasp...no Facebook or Twitter!
No computer for a while put my job at jeopardy, being that I need it to edit the videos I shoot for my clients. To put it simply, I found myself somewhat shipwrecked.
It's actually pretty serious, because it's not cheap to live in Denver, and without a job to make money, I can't pay my rent! As I'm sure you are aware, replacing these dead devices isn't cheap...especially the car.
I got my computer's hard drive replaced, allowing me to get back to work, and write this very article. So that's a huge step. However, I still have no phone, car, or (tear) iPod. A musician without his iPod is like a Pirate Captain without his trusty eyeglass. Or sword. Or ship. Hence: shipwrecked.
But through this experience, something new has occurred that I'm beginning to notice.
I'm more present.
A conversation with a friend, such as I just had here at Jake's with Ryan, a super-talented Cinematographer I frequently have the pleasure of working with, isn't interrupted by a vibrating device in my pocket, crying for my attention. I'm not worried about battery life. I've stopped habitually checking my pocket for texts or facebook updates.
I'm actually here, in the present, for now. My face isn't buried in a device every time I'm bored, or every time there's a lull in the conversation. My mind doesn't drift to where else I think I should be, or what's going on online, or where I think I need to be next. I'm living in the moment, engaging with the people I'm currently with, and making eye contact with them.
I'm biking more. I was already an avid biker; I always take my beautiful red Schwinn Cruiser, Bernie (named after both SynthWizard Bernie Worrell and GrooveMaster David Byrne) anywhere within 10 miles as a rule. Why wouldn't I in a city as beautiful as Denver? But right now I have no choice but to bike everywhere. It's a perfect excuse.
By doing so, I feel more centered, more connected to my surroundings, and more in tune with the Spirit of Creativity. Were I just driving everywhere in Grover, I'd be prone to outbursts of anger due to traffic, prone to wasting money on gas, and even likely prone to potential death due to an accident resulting from checking my phone when I should be focused on the road. How often do you do that in a day? I must confess, before last week, I probably did that a few times a day. Stoplights were just too long, so I had to check my phone. What was I thinking? I wasn't. I was on auto-pilot.
All this to say, I've found great Peace in this transitional period without electronic technology. After a moment of freaking out, I went on a bike ride and instantly found deep Joy in the beauty laying just “out my backdoor”. I'm now doing it every day. I'm even running again. But I used to run with my phone, in case someone needed me.
Now I don't even think about it.
Phones, the internet, and vehicles aren't the bad guy here. Technology isn't the enemy. The internet has connected us all in a way that was unfathomable 20 years ago. GPS helps me, a directionally- challenged right-brainer, to find where the Hell I'm going. My phone allows family, friends and co- workers to contact me in a heartbeat, from anywhere in the world.
But with this power comes great responsibility, right Peter Parker?
The internet is easily addictive, and we waste entire percentages of our lives on it, doing nothing more than checking to see how many “likes” or “friends” we have, looking for affirmation in the wrong places. Not having GPS has caused me to actually figure out my surroundings and where I'm going, using my real BRAIN, rather than my phone-brain, as my band/roommates jokingly refer to it. And for the time being, a text from a family member, friend or co-worker doesn't take me out of the present moment, the most important moment we can possibly have.
Continuing the pirate metaphor, lately I've been thinking of our phones like giant anchors we're all dragging around the world, tethered to our pockets by chains. The chain is our inability to stop checking our phones obsessively and habitually, like someone with a bad drug habit.
These great technologies will only get more and more powerful as the ever-imminent Singularity approaches exponentially. (Watch a terrific documentary, “Transcendent Man”, for more on that subject...that's for another article).
Should we all tune-out, shut down, and go on auto-pilot, these incredible tools of smart-phones, the internet, Social Media, and even automobiles can easily lead us to a world where, ironically, we are less-connected than ever, and ignorant of the beauty that surrounds us, and the very people right in front of us.
There's a new EP out by a band I've followed for over 10 years now, Mates of State. They're a beautiful, energetic, hip married couple that somehow has managed to stay relevant through the years of the ever- changing music industry, even through having children (they come on tour with a babysitter), and even through this constantly fluctuating, attention deficit world we live in. Their newest single has a great lyric that I feel succinctly sums up what I'm trying to say here:
“Beautiful kids, you're always staring into cracked screens. Could this be the last time you will get to know me? It's the Modern Age. Why'd we kill the books now? You should stare into my eyes more.”
If I've learned anything in this short (but seemingly endless) time of being “unplugged”, it's this:
Rather than letting these great tools use us, and therefore ultimately becoming tools ourselves, let's use these tools carefully and thoughtfully. Be a tool-user, not just some tool.
And make eye-contact with the person in front of you!
Deep down, that's what they want more than anything else; to be known. Show them that you know them, do that simple but terrifying thing, and stare into their eyes more.
But with this power comes great responsibility, right Peter Parker?
The internet is easily addictive, and we waste entire percentages of our lives on it, doing nothing more than checking to see how many “likes” or “friends” we have, looking for affirmation in the wrong places. Not having GPS has caused me to actually figure out my surroundings and where I'm going, using my real BRAIN, rather than my phone-brain, as my band/roommates jokingly refer to it. And for the time being, a text from a family member, friend or co-worker doesn't take me out of the present moment, the most important moment we can possibly have.
Continuing the pirate metaphor, lately I've been thinking of our phones like giant anchors we're all dragging around the world, tethered to our pockets by chains. The chain is our inability to stop checking our phones obsessively and habitually, like someone with a bad drug habit.
These great technologies will only get more and more powerful as the ever-imminent Singularity approaches exponentially. (Watch a terrific documentary, “Transcendent Man”, for more on that subject...that's for another article).
Should we all tune-out, shut down, and go on auto-pilot, these incredible tools of smart-phones, the internet, Social Media, and even automobiles can easily lead us to a world where, ironically, we are less-connected than ever, and ignorant of the beauty that surrounds us, and the very people right in front of us.
There's a new EP out by a band I've followed for over 10 years now, Mates of State. They're a beautiful, energetic, hip married couple that somehow has managed to stay relevant through the years of the ever- changing music industry, even through having children (they come on tour with a babysitter), and even through this constantly fluctuating, attention deficit world we live in. Their newest single has a great lyric that I feel succinctly sums up what I'm trying to say here:
“Beautiful kids, you're always staring into cracked screens. Could this be the last time you will get to know me? It's the Modern Age. Why'd we kill the books now? You should stare into my eyes more.”
If I've learned anything in this short (but seemingly endless) time of being “unplugged”, it's this:
Rather than letting these great tools use us, and therefore ultimately becoming tools ourselves, let's use these tools carefully and thoughtfully. Be a tool-user, not just some tool.
And make eye-contact with the person in front of you!
Deep down, that's what they want more than anything else; to be known. Show them that you know them, do that simple but terrifying thing, and stare into their eyes more.
You move me, friend. Thank you. This is partly why I love millenials and don't care if I'm twice their age. They have more wisdom, beauty and art than people give them credit for.
ReplyDeleteThank you Kris! We learned so much from your generation, though, honestly. You and Kevin are the best, really.
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