The Voice From The Back Row

I admit I am frustrated.  I have spent time recently dealing with various institutions and “authorities” to manage changes which seem more like requirements than choices (although in the end, we do have choices).  Although billed as “good for me”, they seem to benefit the institutions more.  I have been trying to contact people in those institutions, presumably people who understand bureaucratese and who can provide personal advice, or at least assistance with procedure.  Those efforts are quite frequently frustrated.   I am referred to what is ONLINE, digitalized and impersonal.  Why is it that, increasingly, contact between people is, and in many cases required to be, mediated through Cyberspace?  What is gained and what is lost thereby?

Medical visits and information, processes, prescriptions and treatments are increasingly computerized.  Although it is sometimes possible to contact a representative after a reasonable wait time, patients are strongly encouraged to use their computers to review or add to their records, make or cancel appointments, question their doctors or their bills, get directions and the like.  Records are digitalized and doctors communicate with each other online or through e-mail. Doctors are expected to see more and more patients faster and faster, using the digitalized technology at their fingertips.  All this means less time spent directly with patients, communicating directly, and patients find themselves in the position of having to communicate with their doctors in Cyberspace, except for brief office visits in which the doctor’s attention is divided between patient and computer. Although this may not be true one hundred percent in all locations, it is the increasing trend, and the faster our computers go, the more our medical (and other) communities seem to be drawn into it.

Insurance companies, Social Security and other government agencies also reflect this trend.  Yes, there is still in person contact with representatives whose business it is to sell people specific policies; usually the contact is made via mailed response to a mailed ad.  However, efforts to contact a specific agency, governmental or other, by phone is more difficult. Often, there is a long gantlet of digitalized and recorded choices to pass through before an option to connect with a representative is given.  Sometimes, at that point, the caller is put endlessly on hold, and perhaps even disconnected.  Of course, before this happens, a number of web sites and FAQ selections that one can bring up online have been given. Then, if contact is finally made, the representative is frequently limited to reading to the caller whatever it is that is on the online screen. There is no real conversation, interpretation, advice or help, just a hopefully friendly voice repeating what is found online. Access to people is made difficult in favor of digitized information.  Any real action is found in Cyberspace.

Social media have become increasingly prevalent as a means of communication, along with texting instead of talking.  Both are digital interactions instead of personal ones.  Whether or not one has flesh and blood friends with whom to personally interact, many “friends” are available on Facebook.  It is as if the definition of “friend” has changed, accommodated itself to the times.  It is difficult, if not impossible to have a traditional friend whom one has never met, physically conversed or shared a presence with, or with whom needs are not mutually prioritized.   On the other hand, online one can have many contacts with whom surface, public dialogs are exchanged.  While the ability to make many and far flung contacts is a wonderful thing,  an online friendship is lacking in those qualities a substantive friendship provides.

Schools are a dramatic example of progress into Cyberspace and away from personal and present interaction.  Many schools have reduced their use of books, or no longer use them.   School approved databases become a source of information, along with digitized visual presentations.   Coursework is done online; assignments are received on “blackboards”, completed on computers, and submitted on computers.   In some cases, especially tests, computers correct the assignments.   Parent conversations with teachers become difficult to obtain;  online communication is the default way of communicating.  Students without personal “devices” in school are at a disadvantage from their peers, who can access information and “answers” during discussion in an instant.  Often it is nearly impossible for a parent to find out what actually happens in class.  It takes a parent with perseverance and a good basic knowledge of technology.   Certainly, this may be efficient and cost effective, but something is lacking when a teacher is assigned large classes, computer assisted.   What is lacking is the personal contact.

In business and finances there is also increased computerization of sales, customer service and financial transactions.  Many, if not most people shop online, ranging from occasionally to exclusively.  There is no personal interaction here, just interaction in Cyberspace.  The popularity of this means of shopping is edging out of business brick-and-mortar stores and the people who serve there, actually interacting with customers.   Grocery stores, too, tend to push the digital checkout lines, where one cannot chat for a minute or two with a checkout clerk.  (I have noticed long lines at the single checkout lane open, while the self-check lines stand vacant.  Do people really prefer self-check for the sake of speed?) More and more people are using the convenience of ATM machines and online banking, forgoing the human interaction with a teller.  More and more are opting for direct deposit and bill paying online or by direct debit, opting out of even the minimal contact of receiving a check someone has prepared, or preparing a check for someone one has to pay.

This digitalization expands, even as online hacking is increasing.   Hacking is a difficult phenomenon to trace and control,  and learnable by anyone with a small talent for and interest in computerized manipulations.   It is more prevalent and difficult to counter than such things as mailbox thefts or “confidence games”, which are certainly equally deplorable, but also more humanly interactive.

Even our negative and aggressive actions are finding that in Cyberspace they lose the personal responsibility for their perpetration.  The effects on human beings are minimalized, and respect for life itself becomes in danger of ceasing to be.  Drones, for example, are the digitalized killing of people at a distance through flying, armed computers.  Civilians are killed at the same time as the opposing military, and property destroyed without regard.  Yes, bombing also did that, but drones do that without any remnants of humanity left.  War is becoming a computer game in which death is just part of the game, and the suffering of the innocent is simply “collateral damage”.

What has this all in common?  Certainly the use of computers can make life easier, and overcome obstacles of distance and time that existed before.    What has happened is the progressive lessening of personal human contact based on interaction in the presence of another.  It is the lessening of presence in the here and now, in the physical world.   We are increasingly inhabiting Cyberspace, not just using it, but becoming drawn into it as a place of being.  It is time to ask ourselves two sets of related questions.  Who or what profits from our existing primarily in Cyberspace?   What are we losing when we make that transfer of attention?  How do we ourselves profit from an extended presence in Cyberspace?  What have we lost thereby?  If we ponder these questions, perhaps then we will be able to use our computers without their addicting us into themselves.

Peace,  Diane

 

 

This Saturday, a great shout went up from over 200,000 people in Washington DC, marching not only for recognition of and action on climate change, but also for such issues as jobs, social justice, affordable, quality health care, sustainable agriculture, our natural ecosystems – in short, a paradigm change from how we currently perceive our world.    The people marching represented a cross-section of our subcultures: Native, Hispanic, Asian, African-American, those of European origin, men, women, straight, gay, young, old.  All shared a common overall vision of a healthy, living, habitable planet and a just and fair society.  Contained within the framework and vision of the march were also the specific agendas of myriad activist groups and the smaller personal visions of the marchers.

Certainly, none of these groups and none of these marchers were SAME.   Each had his/her/its own flavor, own goals, and own talents to contribute.  No one group or individual claimed priority over another.  The diversity of all was included, and each marched as one.   Here is a lesson from the  paradigm that informed the march, the paradigm waiting to be born.   We are as diverse as the stars, and we are all, not same, but one.  Each contributes his or her part, yet none is individually responsible for bringing about the breadth of the change we can sense and see.  We are responsible for cooperating, contributing, speaking, listening and facilitating each other.  The totality itself is borne by the One.  The many are in the One, and the One is in the many.   We need to recognize that reciprocity.

Worldwide, the seeds of that reciprocity have been growing.  Each seed is as different from the other as were Saturday’s marchers.   Each seed is a microcosm of the whole, and, as in a hologram, the macrocosm is in each microcosm.  I am referring to conscious community.

Community comes in many forms, including extended family, tribes, interest groups (such as gardening, library volunteers, sports clubs), close-knit neighborhoods, religious groups, or the often temporary communities brought together by disaster.   Each shares common traits: cooperation, communication, interdependence, recognition of diversity, helpfulness, and generosity.  Each is also a training ground for the larger cooperation we need to steer our planet away from the brink of destruction, and to create an Earthly system that nurtures all its denizens.

By far the largest group of communities, and the ones with most experience in cooperative, sustainable and problem-solving endeavors are those who call themselves, broadly, intentional communities.  These communities are intentional because their participants have made a conscious decision to live in cooperation with each other, and consciously commit themselves to embodying that decision.  Not one of their growing number is just like another.  No two are SAME.  They are the globally myriad urban and rural folk  who live sustainably together, often self-sufficient in such things as energy, food and health care.   They range in longevity from newly forming communities to communities who are decades mature.  Most are quiet; the mainstream is not yet aware of their presence.   Yet, it is within these widely varied communities that the seeds of a healed Earth and a gentler culture have grown.  It is time for them to speak up, and for the rest of us to listen.

My purpose here is not to give a full description of the communities movement.   Those who desire such information should contact the Fellowship for Intentional Community,  www.ic.org .   What I want to convey is that the pace of change is exponentially increasing, and changes – for better or worse – are rapidly approaching.    Both to increase our own ability to handle those changes, and for the opportunity to influence them, it behooves each of us to steer our paths towards community.  We need to learn from those who have gone before us, and to create from what we learn.  We need to begin – each of us – to form our own communities, in and from which we live cooperatively with each other.   Yes, we will need to sacrifice some of our fervent independence, the my-wishes-first and I-can-go-it-alone assumptions, in favor of what works for a group and interdependence.  The reward is a satisfying sense of belonging and a sensitive, stable and sustainable Earth.  Our futures may depend upon it.

Peace,  Diane

To my delight, I have found a nature park in the midst of a paved, high density area!   To many, this might seem a very silly cause for celebratory joy.  After all, parks are an accompanying feature of urbanized areas.  True, but those parks tend to be cultivated and developed parks – planted flower gardens, controlled growth trees and vegetation, picnic areas on lawns, or beside pristine ponds in areas designed for that activity, ball fields, playgrounds, swimming pools and the like.  All those things are good, but they are cultivated and developed.  They are in the out of doors, but fall just short of being in nature, in a natural setting.  The park I have found is managed in a different way.

One can find grassy lawn on the few ball fields, and in a small patch near the visitor center and parking lot.  Over the rest of the park, where there is grass, it is mostly tall and growing wild.  There are two ponds inhabited by ducks, geese, and a long legged water bird, I think a heron, as well as frogs, fish, dragonflies and other insects.  Although a few hook and line fishermen may be observed on occasion, the ponds are designed for wildlife rather than for human recreation.  The majority of the park is woods.  These are not manicured woods, but woods with their natural undergrowth, proliferating with natural vegetation – undisturbed trees, flowers, vines.  So far, I have observed squirrels and birds.   I would not be surprised to see rabbits, possums or even deer.  Squirrels are bold.  Other animals can be shy.  The historical buildings that were on the land before it became a park have been preserved, but not commercialized.  The woods surrounds and overshadows the ponds, buildings and the ball field.  Although it is not a large park, trails that are little more than paths crisscross the woods, welcoming hikers or people who just love being in the woods.  There are short trails and long trails, depending on one’s desire or stamina.

To enter the park is to step into a distinct environment, apart from the streets and buildings of the urbanized area that surrounds it.  It is peaceful there.  I think the trees, in particular, create a palpable energy which draws one away from the frenetic concerns  of so-called “civilization”.  Though there is not much that is primeval about the park (no old growth forests, for example, or no great distance from daily life), there is a kind of primeval feeling among the trees.  It feels good to be there.  It feels good to walk through the woods, stop by the pond to watch the birds and feel the breeze, and just stop for a little while and be, dropping the pressure to rush on to the next thing.

The miracle is that the park is there at all.   All around it, land is being developed into commercial and housing areas.  Only the woods shelters the park from the traffic on the streets around it.  The park is not widely advertised.  People know it is there, and visit it, play ball and walk the trails.  Sometimes school classes visit the historical buildings.  However,  I have not seen large crowds there.  The number of visitors seems to be compatible with preserving the atmosphere of the park.  It seems the land was donated to the county, with the stipulation that it continue to be preserved the way it was given.  Not everyplace has such a haven.  Everyplace should.

Urban and suburban life, combined with the current rush to accomplish never ending tasks, and with nearly omnipresent technology, has left many of us divorced from a natural world which is being devoured by sprawl and commercialization at an ever increasing pace.  That deprivation diminishes us.  Before I found the park, my options seemed to be to visit commercial parks with pools, playgrounds, waterslides, ball fields and the like, or to drive several hours to a national forest.    The first was not very appealing, and the second too time consuming (and often crowded to the point that the nature disappeared behind the hordes).  I did not know what I was missing, until by accident I found the park.  No, it is not big or fancy, but it fills a need.

I hope each of us can find a place to reconnect with the Earth.  The Earth is our home.  It nurtures us and supports our life.  Without the Earth, we cease to be.  Technology does not fix that.   May we each find what we need to understand our link to our Earth, and, each in his or her own way, do what is needed to preserve our planet and the life we share among us.  May we pause to reflect and connect again with the Earth, and with each other.

Peace,  Diane

Recently, I underwent surgery for cataract removal.  Although the process requires time for complete healing, the change in vision is comparatively quick and striking.  Suddenly, there is clarity.  Vision is precise, and sharp.  Light is bright instead of cloudy.   The clarity is wonderful after having peered through cataract clouded vision; it is also disquieting.  The new light is piercing, as an assault on the eyes.  The new sharpness is cutting, triggering a certain recoil.  The temptation is to close the eyes.  The brain needs time to adjust, both to the change of stimuli, and to the vision, possibly, of what has until now not been required to come to the attention.  I have been reminded of other times when there has been clarity, but not necessarily comfort in the process.

Clarity is something we all say we want (who wouldn’t?), yet for those to whom clarity is granted on an issue, an unexpected discomfort often accompanies the gift.   Unanticipated though it is, perhaps the discomfort itself is an additional gift,  showing what, until now, has prevented the perception of clarity.

I can remember when my parents sold the house in which I had spent my adolescence.   They moved to a newer house in a different state, one suited to their new status as empty nesters.  Even though I had flown the nest some time ago, it was still a shock that “home” was no longer there.  That was not a logical thing.  I had been on my own, with no plan for moving back in with my parents.  Nevertheless, it was disquieting.  It gave me clarity of what was obvious and assumed, but not necessarily acknowledged and released. Home could no longer be where my parents were.  It also provided clarity that there was no safety net to fall back on, that whatever and wherever I made my life was entirely not only my choice, but also my responsibility, along with any consequences that might ensue.  The clarity was a gift; so was the discomfort which required me to acknowledge not only my emancipation, but also my responsibility.

Clarity can come at any moment on any issue.   I know people who found their eighteenth birthday to be a time of piercing clarity.  They rejoiced at the knowledge that their decisions were henceforth their own;  they felt apprehension, sometimes intense fear at the clarity that their parents could no longer shield them from the consequences of any mistaken actions in which they might engage.  Some felt clarity first in school, recognizing with surety from a book or a class or a teacher the path they wanted their life to follow.  Although this clarity removed the burden of indecision or unawareness, giving them a new maturity, it was also accompanied by an awareness of the work required to achieve their goal, and an intimation of what they might have to let go of in pursuit of that goal.

Others that I know have experienced clarity in and through their relationships, as, for example, the “waking up” that occurs when the honeymoon phase of a marriage is over and the work begins, or the realization that an old friendship is no longer viable, or, in some cases, even toxic. Still others experience clarity as a moment of spiritual enlightenment.  For some, this is conversion to a specific religious group and format.  For others, it can be the moment in which they realize their connection to the Divine, along with the knowledge that no matter how they might find that moment difficult to recall in day to day life, they are no longer able to return to a state of ignorance  because it is that awakened connection which sustains them.

I know of many who wish for clarity, for insight into which path to follow next in their lives or for indication of what choice to make at the fork in the path of their existence.  Although none of them has asked for discomfort, inevitably the gift of discomfort has accompanied any clarity they might achieve. My point is that perhaps it is the accompanying discomfort that is the true gift of clarity; it is the uncovering of things that have heretofore held us back, shielding us from the perception of the goals we want or of the ability to achieve those goals, once they are perceived.  These are the things we need to look at and transform within ourselves.  These are the things we have not wanted to look at, because they are disquieting or uncomfortable.  Yet in the light of the clarity for which we ask, these things can no longer remain hidden.  They present themselves to us for healing.

I wish for all of us the courage to open to clarity, and to be with the healing discomfort.  I wish for all of us to experience the liberating growth that comes from actively participating in the process.  I believe this process is like a spiral, repeating itself at different levels throughout our lives, each time liberating us from the hindrances that went before.  May we all welcome our clarity when it comes, holding ourselves open to the insight and the healing.

Peace,   Diane