I pull up in front of Shoppers Drug Mart and before I can get out of the car, spy a gentleman coming out of the store with a crossword puzzle book in hand. As he walks, he tucks the sales receipt between the pages of the publication and there’s something about the book and the simple gesture that strikes a chord with me.
I find it refreshing that they still publish those little puzzle books and that (likely a not insignificant number of) people still take time to sharpen a pencil, sit down, and work them out. I do Wordle and Connections on my iPad occasionally; Gerry hasn’t missed doing a daily jigsaw puzzle and a Suduko on his device for years; but there’s something about a paperback puzzle book that’s different.
It is tactile in a way an electronic device isn’t. I’m no scientist but I’d wager that the parts of the brain the light up when doing a puzzle on the page of a book vs a screen on a device are, at least partially, different. I watch the man carrying his puzzle book for a moment, wondering (not for the first time) about the impact on our brains the digital world we’ve come to rely on has and feel ever-so-slightly tempted to pick up a puzzle book for myself (I don’t. Remembering that I threw away a couple of them when we were packing for the move to Saskatchewan).
I transact the business I came to do at Shoppers and while driving home think more about digital vs analog. I wonder about challenging myself to go completely analog for a time—a couple of weeks, maybe, for the rest of September perhaps but realize pretty quickly that I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t last a day.
There’s my Kindle for starters.
I do 99% of my reading on a digital device and it would take some pretty big convincing for me to return to exclusively reading paper books. Nary a night goes by that I don’t pull out my Kindle when I climb into bed and, let’s face it, the choice of an ereader over a paperback for reading in bed is a no brainer.
Then there’s my MacBook.
This morning I tapped out 20 minutes of morning pages on it. I sent and received emails. And, yes, I popped into my social media accounts (I’m giving more and more thought to whether or not social media is worth it for me. For now, the answer is yes, in moderation).
I can’t imagine going back to handwriting. Give me a typewriter and I might be okay creatively for a while, but email? I can’t imagine life without email (though I’m making a concerted effort to unsubscribe to things that clutter my inbox and no longer serve me.)
And work gets done online. Just this morning, I received an invitation to join a collaborative group on a platform that Story Circle Network uses for something a group of us are working on. A lot of very good work gets done digitally these days.
Realistically, we (I) will never go back unless something catastrophic happens that forces us to step back from all things digital. I don’t think that’s necessarily negative. What’s more important in my view is to be intentional about where I choose to spend my time and energy. There’s so much dang stuff coming at us every minute of every day that it can be crazy making if we don’t tame the beast.
This week, I’ve heard a couple of things that have stuck in my mind along these lines.
Choose to create space in order to create.
We are inherently creative beings. Honouring that by making space in our lives to create something is an key part of healthy living. This morning, I created space when, instead of checking social media, I picked up my pastels and scribbled in my art journal then wrote for 20 minutes of morning pages.
The other was a reminder to unsubscribe and unfollow.
I had already started down this path and realize there’s a long way to go. Intentional choices must be made. Action must be taken. If my goal is to open up more space for creativity and, equally important, the art of doing nothing, I have to make those choices and take that action.
It’s a noisy world, friends. Every small thing we do to cultivate peace in the midst of it benefits us and, in turn, those we interact with every day. I remain convinced that it’s in making these seemingly small personal choices that we change the world.