The Pain and Peril of Cyberspace

The real reason I have not been blogging. Because computers are WRECKING MY SANITY!!!

I just wrote a detailed post, the first in a long time, and then in the act of saving , it was eaten by WordPress. Not even a burp remains.

Now, it was not the writing that cannot be reproduced. It is the reflective MOOD which has completely vanished in a thicket of curses and thinly veiled threats to both the computer and my mate who sits in the other room saying, “Well, didn’t you save it?”

Which brings me to another question. I have been thinking long and hard about  inventing a word to describe the intense pain that computers cause us both through frustration and loss. I watch people in the library throw “cybertantrums” over the fact they cannot connect to their email, or print out a job application from the federal government. All I can do is look them in the eyes and gently say, “I understand  your pain”. Which, if someone said to me now would make me knock them to the ground. Didn’t know I was living so dangerously.

So what was this little jewel of a post about? It was about how working at the speed of cyberspace has turned me into a less than pleasant person. One who has variously been described past week as “Frenetic”, “hurried” and panicked”.  My reaction to this was to run off to Camp Island to embrace a quieter, calmer self if I could find it. And to avoid being around human beings and computers, both of which were making me crazy.

Part of the problem is trying to balance three jobs, working 10-13 hours a day. Then trying to fit in some kind of a life around that with a little socializing and  exercise..maybe a bit of community service.  I could not understand why it combined to make me so owly. Or why people felt compelled to point out that I seemed “harried”. The poet Rumi said it so well:

 “What I want is to leap out of this personality
And then sit apart from that leaping
I’ve lived too long where I can be reached.”

I spent time in the sun on the porch at Camp Island, reading a book by my friend Kurt Hoelting. He recently wrote “The Circumference of Home” about spending a year living within the area 100 miles of his house without a car. What resonated  most with me was that by slowing down to the speed of walking, and moving deliberately around the landscape, he felt much more connected to his home.  He also talked about how living at the speed of cell phones and cars and computers created a sort of hypervigilance in people.  That struck a chord.

Facebook, email, cell phones, are all instant forms of communication, and we get used to the quick response times. Kurt talks about how images shift constantly on television, and it solicits a certain reactivity. I have noticed how magazines and television and now even books shatter large pictures and ideas into smaller images, with shorter bytes of information, as though people cannot be expected to have longer attention spans, or  time to reflect. I know I have tried to respond immediately to every request and perceived need at work and it has been making me crazy.

Kurt talks about “Long Wave Modalities” to describe the natural phenomena like tides and seasons, that span much longer amounts of time, and involve subtle change. Exposing our minds to such longer waves leaves room for contemplation and reflection. Slower reaction times might lead to less irritability and frustration.

So that is what I did on Camp Island. I set out to have Long Wave Walks around the island. Stopping to lay in the warm moss and look up at crows’ nests, or sitting in the sand and waiting until I observed  three things I had not noticed at first.  Like the sound of wind through the beach grass, or the smell of seaweed drying in the sun,and the call of baby seals on the ice flows.

I followed the long, loping footprints that a wolf left in the sand not an hour before, imagining the strength and grace of this unseen visitor.  I managed to sit quietly on the porch until hummingbirds landed on my hands. All that was the peace and grace of Camp Island.

Then I came back to town, and the computer ate my thoughts. Thank God for cold beer. And Kurt’s Book. “the Circumference of Home”. In fine bookstores and libraries everywhere. Or it should be. It is one of the few books lately that I plan to buy and underline.

Now, hit “Save” and hope for the best.

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