Hey, Um, Yea, Uh-huh

Distractions abound. Pictures. Ads. Videos. A constant hum of information. Noise.

Everywhere you go. Millions of people glued to their phones, checking messages, emails, texts, loading pictures to their social media favorites. Where is the luxury of time to ponder private thoughts or digest what’s being delivered virtually non-stop, 24/7/365?

And it’s not just our kids. Granted, they seem more obsessed, but it’s us, too. The adults. How many times when we’re with someone are we put in second place to an incoming call or text? How many nuances are missed, how many moments?

As a breed, we’re plugged in. But are we tuned in, or tuned out?

I, too, love the access. I love knowing I can reach loved ones at any time. I love the ability to seamlessly promote a business, to reacquaint with old friends, to make new ones around the world, to write this blog so that anyone on the planet might read it. I like the ease and unobtrusiveness of a text message. I like that I can shop without fighting crowds. I like finding information quickly. There’s some really cool, inspiring stuff out there. It’s a marvel. It’s a blessing and a curse. All of that.

But what starches my shorts about all this is not just that as a people we are “being distracted” and seemingly succumbing to it quite happily, but that “being present” is being threatened. The art of listening. The richness of conversation. The act of undivided attention.

Yet ~ I see glimmers of hope in the rise of things like meditation and yoga practices. It tells me that people don’t want to lose touch with their core. They want to slow down the “go go go”. They don’t necessarily want to be tethered to an electronic source, as much as it’s become almost essential.

I also find hope in the fact that there are still people who read books; and based on the sheer number of blogs out there, the realization that people still want to write. There’s a hunger to be heard, a desire to share.

And I think ~ I think ~ that within all the technological wonder, despite distractions, the “quick fix” and the instant everything, and even as some seem to be more awake and others falling asleep ~ there’s a real thirst for what’s genuine. For the organic. For the painting done with hand and brush. For the acoustic. For the face to face. The touch and feel. The messy. The unscheduled. The engaged. The spontaneous. The uninterrupted. For the very humanness of being human.

Let’s not forget!  (What was that? Oh, sorry, just kidding…)