I actually created these earlier this year but decided to do some slight Photoshop modification to convey a digital, yet organic feel. The organism possesses energy but it is unclear whether this is potential energy or kinetic within a harsh environment. Is the system shutting down or in its infancy?
When Incubator was in its infancy, I was hesitant to open myself to the “world” and initially restricted its access. After a few weeks, I decided to remove this “barrier” and it, along with Territories, have remained “open” ever since.
The second tier of openness focused on the books I was reading at the time. Many were interpersonal in nature and several were admittedly “taboo” in a professional setting, ranging in topics from marriage “counseling” to personality disorders. Uncertain whether to include such texts in my published reading list, I consulted two colleagues who suggested that I either remove them completely or bundle them within an “interpersonal” section.
I always found this latter recommendation intriguing; did “bundling” somehow dilute or minimize what I was learning about at the time? It’s as if this aspect of my life could somehow be packaged neatly in a box to focus greater attention on the “important” aspects of my Internet presence. What is, of course, ironic is that this “box” was ultimately the catalyst for my electronic presence in the first place.
The third tier of openness focused on posts (essays?) that pushed the boundaries of what an online diary could look like, but never reaching that tipping point. Or have I?
Now half-way through the book Alone Together, I am forced to reflect on where these online posts are heading and what value they are providing me.
While the “negative” examples focus heavily on the use of Facebook, the “positive” can be perhaps summarized by the following excerpt:
“In thinking about online life, it helps to distinguish between what psychologists call acting out and working through. In acting out, you take the conflicts you have in the physical real and express them again and again in the virtual. There is much repetition and little growth. In working through, you use the materials of online life to confront the conflicts of the real and search for new resolutions.“
As originally intended, my online experience over the past two and a half years has been about the latter. But what else is there to work through now?
One could argue that I’ll always have something to work through, and that writing will aid in my ability to successfully navigate through these challenges. And given my success using this approach, I completely support this claim.
“When I first began studying people and computers, I saw programmers relating one-to-one with their machines, and it was clear that they felt intimately connected. The computer’s reactivity and interactivity […] made them feel they had “company,” even as they wrote code.”
I pulled this quote from Chapter 6 of “Alone Together: Why We Expect More from Technology and Less from Each Other” because I know exactly what the author is referring to.
I have been using computers for nearly three decades – and it’s safe to say that this usage has been a daily recurrence since an Apple IIe first arrived at my doorstep. Computers have ultimately made me who I am today and it’s a path that I do not regret taking.
Computers, for me, have allowed me to tap into my core being. Why? Because at some level they ultimately represent “what could be,” and when your personality is centralized around “never ending possibilities” there is a unique connection that is not easily broken.
Through consistent and frequent use – whether that use was through gaming, programming, or creating – a “digital relationship” always developed. Regardless of what was going on in my life, my computer has been the one thing that I can count on to learn from, experience new things, and to ultimately achieve a sense of “flow.”
I never really thought too deeply about this “relationship” because it has just been a natural part of my life; I could easily conceive giving up my television, but I am not sure I would be able to easily cope without my computer.
While my use of computers provides me with significant benefit (creative exploration, skill-development, research, etc.), it can clearly introduce a “digital divide” between myself and others.
The author of Alone Together summarizes this divide extremely well in her description of the use of robotic companions for the elderly:
“Does it deceive the elderly into feeling less alone as they chat with robots about things they once would have talked through with their children? If you practice sharing “feelings” with robot “creatures,” you become accustomed to the reduced “emotional” range that machines can offer. As we learn to get the “most” out of robots, we may lower our expectations of all relationships, including those with people. In the process, we betray ourselves.”
Is my “relationship” with computers lowering my expectations of human relationships? In general, the answer is “no.”
Through Territories and Incubator, this “one-way” dialogue has allowed me to comprehend the incomprehensible and elevate to a higher level of awareness and understanding. And perhaps this “digital dialogue” is representative of the “ideal” situation as it relates to these unfortunate events.
After all, most people would tire quickly of my interminable analysis and heavy introspection, and many more would never truly comprehend my experiences without having lived through them (as would be true in an opposite circumstance). Thus, this “digital relationship” has served a useful purpose.
Now, however, there is a greater risk for betrayal. The longer that I spend channeling personal thoughts into a digital medium, I become accustomed to a default “acceptance” of the content and the two-way dialogue remains absent.
Intellectual engagement is one of my top priorities in life, and the thinking/writing process is a key producer. Thus, eliminating all written thought at this stage may not be wise. However, I am smart enough to know that a continuation along this introspective path without true connection is the wrong path for me.
(Even I must admit this is completely ridiculous – but it’s still fun to create!)
I woke up the other morning realizing that I have had a fairly consistent dream over the past several years. While i can’t completely understand the associated timing, I am starting to understand the meaning of the dream.
First, let me share some brief background.
With very few exceptions, I have always considered myself to be a good student. I love to learn and school has always been a place of pure enjoyment for me.
Ironically enough, I was never interested in my English classes. I completed my assignments, read the books and participated in class, but frankly I was never enthusiastic about being there.
Not surprisingly, my dream involves my time spent in this class – or, more accurately, my time not spent in this class. For some reason or another, I either chose not to attend class or I simply decided that the assignments could be left until the end of the semester.
As the dream progresses, the semester eventually comes to a close, and you can imagine my emotional state as I quickly realize that I haven’t done anything and I am left wondering how I am ultimately going to succeed in a class in which I really haven’t participated. The realization of potential failure turns the “dream” into a nightmare.
Fortunately, the dream always seems to end with me successfully completing the class although it also omits the details regarding how.
As with anything in life, this dream is subject to interpretation. My interpretation of this dream is that I may be associating success with the existence of a plan. This dream seems to tell me that I can still be successful without one.
Right now, I really have no other choice but to believe.
In February of 2010 I wrote an article entitled Victim of Changes where I explored three contrasting perspectives of how one views positive and negative events as they relate to the broader context of their life.
Since then, I’ve recently discovered a trend; those who say that “everything happens for a reason” has experienced some significant pain or trauma. While I am sure there are exceptions to this claim, I can’t think of a reason why someone would use this phrase if they had not gone through this type of experience.
From my perspective, it’s an interesting contradiction – by causing pain, God has, in some respect, prompted (forced?) these individuals to believe in him (or at least in some higher authority or plan). This, I think, has always been a struggle for me.
I mention this particular phrase primarily because it resurfaced the other day in a lunch meeting with a past colleague. Later on, that comment prompted me to think about what has happened and where I am in my life today.
But is this where I am “supposed” to be? “Supposed” assumes there is a predestined path for me (and for others).
For argument’s sake, if there was truly such a path, does emotion still play a role? For example, if adversity strikes, does it benefit you (or anyone for that matter) to feel sad or angry about it? If adversity was part of “the plan” it ultimately doesn’t matter what you feel about it – “it just is.”
Think about it. If you truly believe that there is a higher authority and that “everything happens for a reason” then at some level, negative emotion should not exist in your life. If something bad should happen to you, “that’s life!” and you should quickly (and naturally) move on to the next chapter, next relationship, etc. void of any negative emotion or lingering concerns / doubt.
At some level it’s a utopian existence. After all, in this frame of mind you’ll feel good all the time! (“it’s part of the plan!”) But of course, the emotional disconnect will be there; when unfortunate events occur, your lack of emotion may prompt the question “Do you even care?” to which you’ll naturally reply “Care about what?”
Using the phrase “everything happens for a reason” is a logical response to a nebulous, confusing and sometimes painful life path. It’s another example of why the human dynamic is so complex; using logic to rationalize the unexplained, but subsequently claiming that “logic” has no place in one’s life – i.e. “life planning is meaningless”, “don’t analyze, just enjoy ..”, etc.
I can, of course, see the partial foolishness in this argument. One is going to feel certain emotions regardless of their belief in a higher authority or “master plan.” And, at some level, you almost have to believe that there is a predefined destiny for you. Not believing this in some capacity can result in emotional and physical stagnation.
As of me, history will dissuade me from using this particular phrase, but my replacement belief is a combination of the following:
He’s a rebel and a runner
He’s a signal turning green
He’s a restless young romantic
Wants to run the big machine
He’s got a problem with his poisons
But you know he’ll find a cure
He’s cleaning up his systems
To keep his nature pure
Learning to match the beat of the Old World man
Learning to catch the heat of the Third World man
He’s got to make his own mistakes
And learn to mend the mess he makes
He’s old enough to know what’s right
But young enough not to choose it
He’s noble enough to win the world
But weak enough to lose it —
He’s a New World man…
He’s a radio receiver
Turned to factories and farms
He’s a writer and arranger
And a young boy bearing arms
He’s got a problem with his power
With weapons on patrol
He’s got to walk a fine line
And keep his self-control
Trying to save the day for the Old World man
Trying to pave the way for the Third World man
He’s not concerned with yesterday
He knows constant change is here today
He’s noble enough to know what’s right
But weak enough not to choose it
He’s wise enough to win the world
But fool enough to lose it —
He’s a New World man…
