I used to share books with my sister. I used to share books with my mother and father. And now…they have their kindles and my books have become somehow less. There is no smudge from my sisters cheeto fingers, no hint of rose from my mothers perfume and no stray philosophical comment, possibly in greek, penned by my father in the margins.
We are allowing convenance to rob us of community and connection.
We don’t send letters or postcards, we send email. Everything is sanitized and sterile of all true interaction and leaves me feeling as if I am experiencing life in a bubble.
Give me dirt! Give my grim! for in those things, true life is found. A post card from Paris with a smudge of chocolate on the bottom from a friends fingers as she devoured her croissant and shared her joy of Paris is so much more meaningful than a facebook update.
I recognize the irony my friend – as I post this on a blog, which will send out a twitter, email and facebook links when I publish it. I know in my heart that I will publish to Kindle if I get the chance to be published at all. Does this make me a hypocrite or just realistic. Can I live in the technology of today, use it and still long for yesterday’s simplicity. Was yesterday actually simpler or have I donned rose-colored glasses? Do I have to answer all these questions?
I get it, I do. I understand that convenance and technology will win in the end. But just for a moment, let us all pause and remember the way our mothers perfume smelled and the excitement of receiving a postcard from over seas. Stop and remember what it is like to interact face to face before facetime. Then make plans to meet up with a friend, not online or via webcam, but at a coffee shop over pastries and chat. Dont let our busy life and convenient devices rob us of community and connection.