Think About Solitude, Part 2

(If you haven't read my original post, Think About Solitude, I encourage you to do so--but you do not need to have read it to make sense of Part 2.)

I recently read The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains by Nicholas Carr (which I mentioned briefly in Think About Books, Part 2). It was a fascinating book and I will probably refer to it in several upcoming posts. It's one of those books that I keep pondering, even though I finished it two days ago. That seems an appropriate reaction, too, since thinking deeply (or, critically) is one of the main ideas that Carr discusses in the book.

As Carr demonstrates, the internet is changing our brains in such a way that one might say it's creating, generally speaking, a society with technology-induced ADD (Attention Deficit Disorder). The internet limits one's ability to really contemplate and understand the information one reads and how it might apply to his or her life. Carr writes that "[t]he development of a well-rounded mind requires both [my emphasis] an ability to find and quickly parse a wide range of information and [my emphasis] a capacity for open-ended reflection.... We need to work in Google's 'world of numbers,' but we also need to be able to retreat to Sleepy Hollow. The problem today is that we're losing our ability to strike a balance between those two very different states of mind" (p. 168).

Carr later quotes novelist David Foster Wallace: "Learning how to think really means learning how to exercise some control over how and what you think. It means being conscious and aware enough to choose what you pay attention to and to choose how you construct meaning from experience" (pp. 194-5).

In other words, we need to "unplug" every so often. We need solitude, nature, and some form of silence. We need time and space to think.

This evening I rollerbladed a little over 11 miles. A lot of people like to listen to music when they exercise; but, when I exercise, I like to just think about things--in the way that constantly "connected" people might not be able to.

Me, unplugged.

While I rollerbladed I thought about Carr's book, and that is when the idea for this blog post came to me. I also pondered my career/job options. I wrote poetry in my head while I rolled along. I thought about my friends and family. I listened to my wheels against the pavement and enjoyed the sound they made. I delighted in the little noises of nature and watched bunnies hop through the reeds along the path. I thought about how, at 90+ degrees (even in the evening), there was no way I could do the full 15.8 miles I've done the last few times I've been out.

And every thought took me back to Carr's book and our society's reliance on technology and the distractedness it creates. I am certainly not immune to this technology-induced ADD; and, as I thought about Carr's book, I realized that I don't want to lose my capacity to read deeply and think critically. Therefore, I think that in order to hold on to this ability, I need to make time to read, write, or do any other activity uninterrupted--time when I'm not texting or checking email, Facebook, or Twitter.

Solitude.

Think About Slowing Down

I debated with myself about what to call this post. There are so many ideas and thoughts in my head, and I've been so busy this week that I haven't been able to get them down in blog form--and, in my mind, I kept trying to figure out how to get them all out in one post.

But, wait. Why the rush?

At one point, I wanted to call this "Think About Rudeness," but that sounded too negative. So, I thought, what about "...Manners"? My brain went off on a long tangent on that one--when you work retail, you tend to wonder sometimes why other people weren't brought up as well as you were (thanks, Mom!). But, I forget my manners at times. I'm rude at times. I don't always do it purposely; there are so many factors that can affect a moment. But, without a doubt, one of these factors is rushing. When we're in a hurry, we tend to do disrespectful things (flip off another driver, cut in line, cut someone off in mid-sentence, etc.) that we wouldn't ordinarily mean to do.

So, really...what's the rush?

About fifteen years ago I wrote a poem about a scene I witnessed while I was working as a cashier in a grocery store. I will save you from my early poetic efforts and just summarize the poem here. It was about the impatience of customers in line. A retired man was testy because two people were ahead of him in line. A mother and a young child were right behind him. The child was moseying behind his mother, looking at either the toy train running on a track hanging from the ceiling or a curious spot on the floor, I'm not sure which--maybe both. In any case, the child was enjoying his time in line, taking in the sights and sounds around him. When the grumpy man was through the line and the woman stepped up, her boy tried to show her something. The woman dismissed him with a nod, quickly made her purchase, and headed for the door. "Hurry, hurry!" she said to her son, without noting his enjoyment of his surroundings, his enjoyment of the moment, of life. Obediently, he ran up to her, and, as they walked out the door, he repeated (without irony), "Hurry, hurry!"

I know there are times when we're all in legitimate rushes, but sometimes things just don't move any faster. When there's nothing you can do about it, why not stop? Stop. Think. Observe. Relax. Take the time to write a blog entry!

Slow down.

Think About Solitude

lonely haiku 

loneliness--

a star lost in the night

even while many surround her

One of my favorite activities is going to a coffee house or cafe (Biggby's or Chandler's usually) to drink coffee, possibly nibble a treat, and read or write. I love being in a cafe full of people who are talking, laughing, studying, or reading. I watch them, smile and nod at them (they're often the same people I see time and again), maybe even small-talk (though I'm not much good at small talk).

I usually go to these places alone (although I've tried to recruit others before). I think sitting and reading with another who is sitting and reading is a great way to spend time together. Alone but not alone. But, this is also a concept I've struggled with. While I enjoy solitude, I also crave being around others. I often wish I had a good friend to sit and read with me--not because I mind being alone--but because I want to share my "story"--the story that unfolds as Life--with someone else, so that it is not just my story. Experiencing something--whether it be reading or traveling--with another person makes the activity even more special.

I'm not the type of person who longs for a lot of friends. I'd rather have just a few true and close friends to spend my time with. Like a lot of writers, I'm not a "social butterfly." Think Harper Lee or J.D. Salinger--though I'm not (and hope never to be) as reclusive as those two are (Lee)/were (Salinger).

It is natural for humans to need others. When one is alone, she can get lost in her own mind. I know that when I think too much, for too long, I can see how easy it would be for one's mind to unravel. I think of the Unabomber, in his alone-ness in his cabin.

Yet too many people and too much noise can be distracting. We live in a fast-paced world--too fast sometimes. We need to savor moments. A few years ago I started reading about the art of haiku poetry. It's not easy to write, but it's beautiful to read. I struggled with expressing my thoughts so succinctly and put the book away. Recently, though, I've tried again. Although I'm still learning, it is my understanding that haiku is used to express a single ordinary moment or thought. It's meant to cause us to explore our surroundings and our relationships with nature or people. We need time to think, to look inside, to see who we are, and who we want to be, in order to then look outside of ourselves and see who we can help and how we can make a difference. Since I started reading about haiku, I jot down notes constantly--anything I think of--to go back to later and form into a stanza. It helps me notice things I might not ordinarily notice. Solitude does this as well. This is why it's important to have time to ourselves periodically.

I think I would go crazy with too much solitude, too much silence. If something happened and all computer networks and phone lines shut down indefinitely, I would feel utterly cut off from the rest of the world. Still, there has to be a "happy-medium" (pardon the cliche). I once overheard two girls at a coffee house--they were talking so fast that it was like listening to a verbal ping-pong game. Although I could understand their words, I couldn't keep up with their conversation. It was too overwhelming.

Me--I want to enjoy another person's company, not be stressed by it. After all, there is a "time for everything," solitude and loneliness included.

Think About Time

Who isn't excited that we "gain" an extra hour tonight (even though we'll lose it again in the Spring)? An extra hour of sleep, yes? Or, an extra hour to stay up? Whichever.

It's actually not very hard to get anyone thinking about time. If, like me, you've long been shackled into the North American mindset of rushing around, you know what I mean and are used to hearing or uttering phrases such as, "I don't have time!", "Don't waste time.", "Where has the time gone?", or "Hurry up, I don't have all day."

So, what I would like to get you thinking about is this: Why do we think of time so often? Why do we make so many references to it? Why do we get impatient with people who are walking or moving too slow? On the other hand, why (and how) are some cultures so relaxed about time? Why can't we practice those same mindsets? What is it about time that keeps us so enslaved to it?

Thoughts? Please post your comments!