So, did I mention that David won an iPad mini? And that he gave it to me? And that I named it Victoria? And that I've never in my whole life had an iAnything? And that within about 30 minutes I was in love?
Now before all you apple-addicts start pumping your fists and nodding your heads and whispering your "I told you so"s at the screen, hear this: I love it so much it scares me. With the ease and fun and accessibility of such a hand-held electronic device, I fear that I have much to lose.
Like time to think and ponder without alerts, messages, or notifications demanding a response.
Like uninterrupted conversation with David, the real love of my life.
Like quiet and stillness that help me hear the voice of God.
Like dedicated family time, where the soon-to-fly-the-nest young men who still live under my roof know that they are more important than the buzzing inanimate object in my hands or any message it announces.
So I enter the iWorld with great trepidation, already discovering a need to set boundaries. No iPad in the bedroom. No iPad at mealtimes. No multi-tasking during family activities, even if we are just watching a movie.
But the temptations to grab the iPad are more subtle and deceiving than the obvious aforementioned pitfalls. I find that I reach for it when, say, I am waiting for a pot to boil. I think, "Hey, now would be a great time for a game of Bejeweled Blitz!" And suddenly I'm lost in the mindless shifting of virtual gems.
But what did I do last week, or better, ten years ago, in such instances? What did I do in those fifteen-minute moments of nothingness?
Nothing.
I waited. I thought. I day-dreamed. I prayed. I listened. And I was probably calmer, surer, and more grounded for the many moments of nothingness that peppered my days. I'm taking them back!
I refuse to allow the iStuff to fill every bit of breathing space in my life. No, I like technology, and I'd be lying if I didn't tell you that my new daily planner app leaves Franklin-Covey in the dust. But what good is planning if I'm losing my real life to the virtual world?
So today I did something radical. I ironed in silence. No Nora Jones singing, no movie playing, no e-books reading.
Just silence.
And I liked it.
Now before all you apple-addicts start pumping your fists and nodding your heads and whispering your "I told you so"s at the screen, hear this: I love it so much it scares me. With the ease and fun and accessibility of such a hand-held electronic device, I fear that I have much to lose.
Like time to think and ponder without alerts, messages, or notifications demanding a response.
Like uninterrupted conversation with David, the real love of my life.
Like quiet and stillness that help me hear the voice of God.
Like dedicated family time, where the soon-to-fly-the-nest young men who still live under my roof know that they are more important than the buzzing inanimate object in my hands or any message it announces.
So I enter the iWorld with great trepidation, already discovering a need to set boundaries. No iPad in the bedroom. No iPad at mealtimes. No multi-tasking during family activities, even if we are just watching a movie.
But the temptations to grab the iPad are more subtle and deceiving than the obvious aforementioned pitfalls. I find that I reach for it when, say, I am waiting for a pot to boil. I think, "Hey, now would be a great time for a game of Bejeweled Blitz!" And suddenly I'm lost in the mindless shifting of virtual gems.
But what did I do last week, or better, ten years ago, in such instances? What did I do in those fifteen-minute moments of nothingness?
Nothing.
I waited. I thought. I day-dreamed. I prayed. I listened. And I was probably calmer, surer, and more grounded for the many moments of nothingness that peppered my days. I'm taking them back!
I refuse to allow the iStuff to fill every bit of breathing space in my life. No, I like technology, and I'd be lying if I didn't tell you that my new daily planner app leaves Franklin-Covey in the dust. But what good is planning if I'm losing my real life to the virtual world?
So today I did something radical. I ironed in silence. No Nora Jones singing, no movie playing, no e-books reading.
Just silence.
And I liked it.
:)
ReplyDeleteVery good!