Deckchairs on the Titanic.

June 24, 2004

Division of the Divine

I always believed that I am an essentially soulful creature, a person that lives to observe and act within a world of wonder. But lately I've been thinking about the untold effects of technology on the soul, the way that the divine in all of us is formally extracted, divied up, sliced apart and thrown to the dogs.

I take for an example the cell phone, which I use constantly for both personal and business use. "Use" is the proper word because I feel both "useless" without it and I increasingly feel "used" by it. The cell phone, in its portability, its persistence and its practicality intersects my every move. When I carry it I feel an urge to be on it. When I'm not carrying it, I feel an equally awful urge to have it.

Moreover, I know this is a common complaint and I don't hold a patent on the idea of spiritual loss through technological gain. But what I've been feeling lately is that email, the Web, cell phones, and telephones generally are ways to cut up our interior lives into smaller, undigestible chunks -- components that can never been integrated again that will die within us and refuse to be made whole. They fracture our experiences of the world and its unfolding.

I used to create attachment with a place (or build presence of mind) through staring at a spot on a floor or an object or area. For me, staring creates certainty. It focuses the mind. It pushes the objective present into the subjective future. And it seems to calm frayed nerves. It seems harder to do this lately what with the demands of life and work, the actual ringing of phones and email arrivals. But further, staring (or rather, just being) is hard because of the immense anticipation of interruption. The division of the divine within all of us is real and I need to find out more before the operation is over. Any suggestions are greatly welcomed.

Posted by Andrew at June 24, 2004 10:03 PM