Barbara Feinman on the perils of being online too much and on the need to unplug now and then
My friend William Powers’ book -- HAMLET'S BLACKBERRY -- is out now. He sent me an advance copy, and it came just before we were all leaving for the beach. I left a ''vacation message'' on my gmail account that said I was observing ''an Internet sabbath'' inspired by Bill’s book.
I have been struggling with disconnection for years. I want to be offline and in the world but my email beckons me like the Sirens of Greek mythology, luring me back against my better judgment. I get too many emails for someone who makes as little money as I do and wields even less power. Nonetheless, I’m overwhelmed with emails and lately it’s only gotten worse. I have a contract right now with a curriculum design company and am obliged to use their computer and their email system for the work I do on their behalf. During the week, in my little home office, I always have two laptops fired up with what feels and sounds like dualing email accounts. The ping of each new email has begun to grate on my nerves, a digital reminder that my time is not mine. I’m Lucille Ball on the digital assembly line, unable to keep up with the candy bon bons coming down the conveyor belt. As I was reading Bill’s book I recognized myself when he was talking about a state of being that Seneca called “the hunted mind.”
Bill’s book is a balm to this “hunted mind” syndrome. He reminds his readers that technology is a wonderful thing but that we need to take control and not become tools of our tools. I’ve let email, Twitter, FB and all the rest dictate my thoughts, my time, my priorities. Bill offers solutions and a philosophy for living meaningfully and deeply in this digital age.
For starters, I won’t be answering email so quickly or checking it so often. I might even ignore some email – certain requests and demands can hover endlessly in cyberspace as I learn to stop surrendering myself so easily to what other people think I should be doing — people who don’t sign my paychecks at least.
–Barbara
I have been struggling with disconnection for years. I want to be offline and in the world but my email beckons me like the Sirens of Greek mythology, luring me back against my better judgment. I get too many emails for someone who makes as little money as I do and wields even less power. Nonetheless, I’m overwhelmed with emails and lately it’s only gotten worse. I have a contract right now with a curriculum design company and am obliged to use their computer and their email system for the work I do on their behalf. During the week, in my little home office, I always have two laptops fired up with what feels and sounds like dualing email accounts. The ping of each new email has begun to grate on my nerves, a digital reminder that my time is not mine. I’m Lucille Ball on the digital assembly line, unable to keep up with the candy bon bons coming down the conveyor belt. As I was reading Bill’s book I recognized myself when he was talking about a state of being that Seneca called “the hunted mind.”
Bill’s book is a balm to this “hunted mind” syndrome. He reminds his readers that technology is a wonderful thing but that we need to take control and not become tools of our tools. I’ve let email, Twitter, FB and all the rest dictate my thoughts, my time, my priorities. Bill offers solutions and a philosophy for living meaningfully and deeply in this digital age.
For starters, I won’t be answering email so quickly or checking it so often. I might even ignore some email – certain requests and demands can hover endlessly in cyberspace as I learn to stop surrendering myself so easily to what other people think I should be doing — people who don’t sign my paychecks at least.
–Barbara
posted by dan at 9:17 PM
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