I love my iDevices. Not in the same way that I love my wife, my friends, or my family, but more than the way that I love potatoes, hamburgers, and iced tea (which are high on my list of favorite things). I use my iDevices to stay connected—to friends through Facebook and instant messages, to clients through email, to the world through my occasional browsing of news feeds (I check as sparingly as possible, as most news is negative and disturbing), and to God through a few favorite Bible apps (although definitely not as often as I would like).
But I have also allowed my iDevices to become distractions—something to fill the down time. I’d liken it to a junkie who joneses for his next fix…minute to minute. It got so bad at one point that while watching TV (another distraction), whenever the commercials would come on, I’d reach for my iPad and instinctively slide-tap-tap my way to Facebook to see if I had missed another food photo or the next popular meme. And it became exhausting. Like many people living in our modern culture, my attention span has been sliced and diced into little Ron Popeil Chop-o-Matic bits.
And then something beautiful happened. My iPad died. Not in a permanent way; the battery simply discharged. So, like any good junkie would do, I reached for my iPhone to get my Facebook fix. But to my horror, it also had died. Oh. My. Word. What was I going to do? Walk forty steps to the iMac in my office to quell my addiction? Walk five steps to grab the AppleTV remote to help fill that time? Nope. Too much effort (another first world problem). So what was I to do? I noticed this weird rectangular thing sitting on the coffee table next to me. It was about a half inch thick, made of paper and full of words. Dare I crack it open and explore what was inside?
Wow. Books are great! I had been wanting to read this particular one for a while; I purchased it over a year ago and it has sat unopened that entire time. I only recently moved it within arm’s reach in the hope that I might actually attempt to read it. But modern technology always won out. And even though I have a number of digital books on my iPad, other less important, trivial apps drew me away and sucked me in. So when my hands felt the texture of the paper, and the smell of the ink tickled my nose, I actually took a deep breath and said to myself, “Hmm. This is nice.” I liked reading. I missed reading, especially something more than a quippy article or a fifteen word Facebook status. I was engaged. I was excited. I was…relaxed.
Recent studies have shown that increased exposure specifically to digital devices actually decreases the serotonin levels in the brain—the chemical neurotransmitter that plays an important part in the regulation of learning, mood, and sleep. The irony of our digital devices is that even though they offer promise of connectivity, they are actually reprogramming our brains to become less connected, less balanced, and less able to function in they way they were intended. We become less creative. We are less engaged with our physical world. And, like drugs, we become more and more dependent upon them to achieve satisfaction, fulfillment, and joy.
I miss being creative. I used to paint. I used to draw. I used to play drums, and guitar, and piano and play with action figures and use my imagination in amazing ways. Sadly, there are apps for that—all of that. And while they are fantastic innovations, they have their place. Instead of using them in moderation as tools to further my creativity, they have simply become distractions to fill downtime. Beautiful things happen during downtime…our bodies heal, our minds rest. We are engaged in our thoughts—able to dream and create, to pray and connect to God, to more easily let go of the stresses that weigh us down. Ironically, it takes unplugging to truly recharge.
I tend to be obsessive about making sure my iDevices are fully-charged and ready at a moment’s notice. But I want that to change. So, rather than have my iPad conveniently sitting an arm’s length away, I’m going to replace it with my book—hopefully followed by another book. Or a pad and pencil. I am going to unplug and disengage so that I can rediscover what truly fulfilling engagement looks like—unplugging to recharge.
**Please share this post with others. And even though it’s ironic that we are using our digital devices to read it, hopefully it will be inspiration to step away, get some fresh air, and truly live.
Please share this with others