ANXIOUS BEFORE DIGITAL

Much is said about how fast the world has become. I was talking to a guy today about it. But I think frequency rather than speed is the difference between 2011 and 1993. Speed of communication makes for a more tangible love interest, teammate, roommate, etc. I get that. I understand that an IM is faster than a text which is faster than an email which is faster than a handwritten letter. But upon reflection, my buddy and I decided that the technology that brought you Yahoo Messenger and Google Talk merely capitalized on the anxious heart of man which has been in existence since the 18th century when the Industrial Revolution began.

I was in elementary and junior high school in the 1980s. The only guy who rocked a cell phone was the fictitious Zack Morris of Saved by the Bell. And Zack’s phone was hardly inconspicuous as it rivaled the size of an NBA player’s shoe box. Dope Dealers and Doctors were the only guys with pagers, a device used to notify the owner that someone needs his attention or a quick returned phone call. I eventually got one of those. But what I’m saying is that few people had the immediate access to others electronically that they do now and yet the heart has always been unsettled.

Case-in-point…my daydreaming in church about dunking in a game or thoughts of dating a girl in my third period English class. When I was younger, the material that is now given an artery via various service providers was being cultivated. I had the anxious heart. I longed to talk constantly, to interact incessantly and to avoid solitude. Technology didn’t invent the hurried life; it merely afforded it another agency by which to express itself. The mobile device, laptop, Ipads of the world are no different then the standard sidearm issued to a police officer. It is but one tool, a piece of the armor that goes with the uniform. Don’t blame distraction on cell phones for such indulgences are the modern version of doodling.

Doodling is what some of us do when we’re bored all the while wishing we could be somewhere else, do something else, be with someone else. Those desires still reside but we’ve gained a superficial access through a digital landscaping. That’s why we can text and talk face-to-face. In fact, while some think it’s rude to do both simultaneously, and it may be, it may be the most honest interaction. It certainly isn’t much different than me daydreaming about that girl in the third row who likes my best friend instead of me. See what I mean? At least now people have the nerve to say with their gadget geekiness, “Yo, you’re gonna get about 53% of my attention right now if that so take it or leave it.”

But we all know that’s kind of lame even with the honest vibe so what now? My point is that the anxious heart needs quieting with or without technology. My phone is as inanimate as fried chicken. But I am the living creature if I choose to be and I can go to places where the digital sidearm is not only unloaded but unnecessary. And how often do we go there away from the noise that stimulates us to frantic activity? Do you know silence? Have you ever sat in silence without working? Have you ever made space for God without reading, writing, or praying and just welcomed Him to sit with you? That’s what I’m working on and my anxious heart born in 1975 won’t stop complaining. It’s afraid but of what I don’t know. And I’m not alone. Y’all afraid too. Y’all afraid of being quiet, of waiting, of slowing down, of logging off, of letting the wind blow and the sun shine down. And that’s where we need to start – with the fear we have when it comes to sitting with ourselves in our own skin bare before God. What might that look and smell like? If that ain’t a conversation, I don’t know what is. If people read this and don’t write comments, it probably proves whatever confusing point I was trying to make.