I'm really bad at blogging these days, and I don't just refer to the lack of posts. I seem to have lost my muse. Every time I sit down and try to write something, nothing comes out. Or it does, but it's not good writing. It's not something that I would want to have to take the time to read.
2010 has been a tumultuous year here at Chez 10K, with lots of huge projects that have kept me distracted and away from the computer -- or only at the computer long enough to spit out the occasional facebook status. And perhaps that's the problem. Just maybe this crazy year has left me with an attention span that doesn't do discourse that lasts longer than a tweet. (Now, there's a truly frightening thought!)
And it's not just my writing that's suffered. The chaos of the year has reduced my reading habits to short bursts as well. Between a lack of time and summer back troubles that have made it difficult to curl up with a good book, most of my reading lately has been done while I'm on the elliptical machine. I don't stop reading when I get to a logical breaking point anymore -- I stop when the timer goes off.
I'm pretty sure this disjointed flow of information and communication is a common trend. I don't have a kindle or a nook, but I see enough of them peppering the world out there to realize that a lot of people do their reading now in tiny fits and starts -- on the bus, over lunch, in the waiting room at the doctor's office -- and I'm afraid that what's getting lost in the shuffle is the time we used to spend reflecting on what we've read -- and on what we say or write. We spit thoughts at each other on facebook and twitter and then we turn on the TV and watch talking heads spit thoughts at each other on the 24-hour news and then we turn on our books and read a few random phrases before we're called away by our stop, the check, or a nurse calling us back to the examining room. We take in a lot of information, but where does it go and what do we do with it?
I don't know. I'm asking questions, but I don't have the answers saved up for some great final flourish. This is just what I'm thinking about this morning. It's something I need to explore further this fall.
On Labor Day this year, I took a really long bike ride all by myself. No iPod. No timer. No destination or agenda. I wasn't even sure where I was headed when I started out. I ended up riding from my house in downtown Chattanooga over to the river and up along its side to the Chickamauga Dam and then back again. It was a gorgeous day and so peaceful and quiet, and it felt really wonderful to spend some time just letting my mind wander.
We're plugged in to so many things these days. How many of us need to be reminded to disconnect once in a while? Looking back on the year, I realize that while I've been struggling to keep up, I could have used a few nudges.
2 comments:
Ah, the lost art of waiting. Granted, for a longer wait, having something to read is nice. But for the shorter waits, the five minutes here and there, doing nothing is wonderful for its own sake. It's amazing what you notice by just standing still. Or by not having anything else demanding your attention.
Down with multitasking, I say! It's not like we've gotten more time, become more efficient, make fewer mistakes, by trying to do two or three things at once. Quite the contrary: We get the mental equivalent of snacking: We aren't exactly hungry, but we also aren't exactly satisfied, and nothing feels complete.
I had a short drive home after running some errands this afternoon and automatically popped on the radio. Then I thought, no... I'm just going to swim around in my own head for these five minutes...
It's was nice. Quiet. Peaceful.
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