Part I- Unplugged

12 facebook checks.

23 text messages.

17 likes on instagram.

2 retweets.

1 photogrid

6 chive albums.

4 pictures pinned.

3 youtube videos.

1 huffington post article.

This was my online activity for one hour. During a work shift. These distractions filled approximately 20 minutes of that hour. 20 minutes that could have been focused onto activities that aren't completely fillers.

What is all this plugged in time doing to me? Well, for one its causing my work ethic and focus to deteriorate. I was tallying this activity for this article. I was worried that it would not be accurate because I was self-aware, but to my (disconcerting) surprise I was finding myself reaching for my phone, on autopilot every few minutes. I had to remind myself to keep up with the tally. 

This led me to my decision to become unplugged.

Just for a week.

Not a drastic life change. 

...Well it shouldn't be.

Because I'm not planning to become Amish. I'm not living like a pilgrim and lighting a candle to read by. I am going to to use my phone as a landline. 

I will still work on my computer at work.

I have a workline in case of emergencies. 

If I need to take a picture, I'll use a camera.

If I need to check the time, I'll wear a watch.

I'll check my voicemails and texts at the end of the evening each day when I come home.

If I need to know directions somewhere or the answer to some random question... I'll ask an actual human.

 Nothing will change, except for the constant access. 

 

Im hoping I'll find the time that was lost over the internet waves.

Tomorrow until next Sunday, I'll live in the real world rather than the cyber world, and next Sunday. I'll Let you know what I learned in Part II. 

IS SPIRITUALITY IMPORTANT?

IS SPIRITUALITY IMPORTANT?

I do not have religion. My fiancé and I do not belong to a church, or synagogue. We are not connected to a specific doctrine. We do not have a specific community that shares the same set of beliefs. But I am decidedly spiritual and, in my own way, close to God.


I was baptized Catholic, raised a Lutheran, befriended by a Muslim, who became a 'by water not blood sister' in the 4th grade, introduced into a Jewish household by my step family that same year, and have lived my adult life reading on Buddhism & meditation practices. I've traveled extensively. I've attended Mass in Ireland, walked the Roman Vatican, admired the towers of Notre Dame, and sat within Buddhist temples in China. I am also an avid reader, fascinated by religion, history, science, and above all, people.


My college major was psychology. My internships were in family based counseling and drug addiction centers. I watched people cling to religion while they faced hardships. I watched some people heal because of it. I observed the strength it gave to people with wonder. I remember often thinking, what it must be like to truly believe in something so strongly.


For years, I absorbed religions, traditions, and cultures like a sponge. I examined the differences through the objective perspective of a scholar. I never felt a pressing need to adhere to one or banish another. If I thought a particular custom or story seemed ridiculous, I approached it with amusement and intrigue, never disgust or judgment. I did not carry the fear or pride of someone who had grown up with a strong, singular belief system. More importantly, I had never felt the need for one.


But then, my life changed. I lost someone to cancer, my grandmother, a primary caregiver in my life. In that same year, I, myself, became ill. I was hospitalized. And while in the hospital, I had time to think. I had time for depression. I had time for panic. My glittering, fair weathered, life was finally facing a storm. I had family and friends around me. I had science- my medical staff explained that with treatment, I would come out fine. But, for the first time, I needed more. My friends and family could not give me the answers to my questions. Where is my grandmother now? Why is life like this? Why am I so mortal?


And there I was. Spiritually, alone. Just my soul looking out into darkness wondering what, or who, was on the other end. I had met so many people with different paths leading them to their God. Their different traditions and holy languages muddling together like strokes of different colors creating a dark shade that I could not decipher. Who is right? To whom should I pray? Which stories do I believe?


Not knowing where to start, I prayed to the only person I could think of. My grandmother. I cried, and I prayed. And I did this for a long time.


Eventually, I prayed to God.


I felt better. I looked outside. I saw nature. I saw stars, oceans, trees, mountains, streets, animals, people, my loved ones. I saw everything all at once. And I felt a part of it. I felt peaceful. And I learned something.



It is okay not to know. It’s ok to believe that there is a grand presence protecting and leading, without giving it a name. But, it is important to let yourself believe in it. It is important to find sanctuary and strength in knowing there is MORE. It is important to develop a sense of spirituality because believing in cosmic order is the same as believing in love. It allows hope to enter your life. Without trusting there is a benevolent force guiding you, there is no hope of walking out of the storm. Hope is allowing yourself to enter suspended belief- i.e. shrugging the easy-come criticisms of "believing" to the side and letting yourself trust.


The choice isn't between abandoning science and logic to blindly and vehemently commit to religion. The choice is believing that your walking alone through random meaningless events, or believing that you are connected to a greater design. You get to pick who your god is, what your personal rules are, and what actions bring forth the feeling of spiritual comfort.


The only choice is whether or not to open the umbrella when the storm hits, or stand in the rain.

Dream On ♡ (written last September)

        "You, you may say. I'm a dreamer, but I'm not the only one." John Lennon

  In February, I turn 27 years old. I am getting married next summer. I have, by these examples, ceremoniously entered womanhood. Yet, I still catch myself wondering who I will become when I grow up.

           My physical age is defined as adult. My girlish looks are slowly changing. Every morning, I wake up and notice subtle changes that gradually etiolate my young, dancer body. I still teach dance to children, and as we warm up I feel my joints and muscles slowing down, unable to effortlessly flex and stretch through the positions. When I look in the mirror, I see a grown up looking back.

           My mental age per contra is somewhere in the late teens/early twenties. I'm old enough to understand the responsibilities that weigh on me. I refuse to leave a job that is not a good fit for me because it offers me the security of a salary and benefits. I have bills to pay. However, I am young enough to daydream, stary eyed, about what adventure will come next.

            My daydreams are never connected to this reality. I picture myself writing novels and traveling the world; with no proximate stepping stones towards achieving these goals. I dream big, but live steady. I work for an insurance company. I teach dance in the evenings. I chip away at a Master's degree. I plan short vacations when time allows. I don't throw everything into a suitcase, quit my job, and travel West to write the American novel. Even though that sounds fantastic to me. But for now, I am a worker bee- at least my body is. My mind is elsewhere. I have not resolved to believe, this is it. This is who I've become. 

         The point of this article is to deliberate on whether holding on to a bigger dream is a healthy optimistic choice or a disillusioned distraction.  I'll argue both sides; as I have many times before in the privacy of my own journals. 

 OPTIMISTIC CHOICE

         Dreams create pathways. They shape our decisions. They inspire drive.  Imagining new possibilities cultivates an active mind and  optimistic disposition. A recent study published in the Archives of Neurology indicated that active use of your brain may deter the onset of Alzhemier's. They were indicating the benefits of learning, using puzzles, and socializing. These activities decrease the natural  pruning of our synapses that occur due to inactivity. But what motivates a person to stay mentally active? I would argue, dreams. Its the hopefulness that tomorrow you one step closer to achieving your goal.  Dreams create purpose. The purpose is to achieve the dream.

        Achieving a dream can lead to fulfillment, life satisfaction, and happiness.  In February of this year, A 101 year old man, Fauja Singh, completed a 10 kilometer marathon because it made him happy. He attributed being able to complete this wild feat purely to his mental will. 

He was qouted by CNN saying, "It's because of the happiness I get out of it. If something makes you happy, you'll do it well." 

But, what if holding onto your dreams does not necessarily guarantee happiness...

DISILLUSIONED DISTRACTION

We've all met the man or woman who talks a big game, but has no substance to back his or her words. Some people live hopelessly stuck in a loop. They have the creativity to imagine a better life for themselves. They have the direction that points them towards who they wish they could become. But, they either don't have the resources (or more commonly) are too bound by fear to take action towards bringing their dreams to fruition. So, without taking action their dreams dangle in front of them. Unattainable. 

Life satisfaction is based on appreciation and expectations. Chasing a dream may distract from appreciating the blessings that are currently abundant.Comparing the dream to the reality may cause the reality to appear not good enough. If the dream is never achieved does the person die with regret? 

My late grandmother talked about owning her own farm in Michigan until the week she died. She lived in a suburban community in Pennsylvania, but she loved cows and she loved snow. Her heart was North on an imaginary Dairy Farm. I remember worrying that she did unfulfilled, never having lived on that farm. But, as a beloved member of our family, who passed surrounded by love, did the dream matter? Unfortunately, I didn't ask. 

The conclusion I've come to is, dreams are positive catalysts AND coping mechanisms. Catalysts when paired with action. Coping mechanisms when applied only as distractions. 

Most importantly, dreams are an enduring piece of our souls carried from our childhood to the grave. A part of us that can not be weathered by age, but merely fine tuned from our experiences. Dreams are immortal.