Today is Hung Upon the Tree

Holy Week Musings on Dante and Repentance

In a recent homily, a local priest said that Lent is not a hoop that we jump through so that we can eat meat and cheese on the other side; rather Lent is the annual writing of a personal chapter into the larger history of the Church.  It is a continual opportunity to repent, change, move further along the path of theosis.

I think my main takeaway from this Lent is that I have made absolutely no progress.  None.  I find myself sinning the same sins, dealing with the same failings of character, unable to move forward.  I am broken, stuck in place.  I still feel the sting of the thorns in my flesh.  Often, I do not even want to be good, to change, for change is to peer into the abyss and wonder what may be on the other side.  And then take a step forward into it.  And then another, and another.  Sometimes it is easier to keep on with the pain than to surrender to the healing.  But I suppose that lesson is part of the spiritual life too--one must learn the depths of one's brokenness in order to fully accept the gift of the Savior, what His sacrifice on the Cross and His Resurrection mean for us, the sinful children of God.

I ran across a little blog post from Joshua Gibbs about teaching The Divine Comedy to his students, and thought the following was appropriate for this week:

"I have found it liberating, exhilarating, and encouraging to admit to my students that I do not want to change. Change begins with the admission that you do not want to change— otherwise the change would have already taken place. When a man admits he does not want to become righteous, he understands the nature of the problem: he knows what righteousness is, but has not lived in such a way as to find righteousness attractive. A man who is not becoming righteous may have convinced himself of any number of lies which excuse stagnation: the problem is ignorance, the problem is environment, the problem is a hectic life. I do not have time to be good. When the problem is recognized— and the problem is a lack of desire for goodness— then that man can begin praying and confessing properly. Forgive me for not wanting good things. I have regularly confessed to my students, “I have a hard time praying for God to give me enough faith to pass the martyr’s test. Instead, I just pray I won’t be put to the martyr’s test.”'

~Joshua Gibbs, "Dante: Do You Want To Want To Want To Be Good?", Circe Institute Blog, April 23, 2016.

Talking Tuesday: Flannery O'Connor (#1)

From her prayer journal, dated April 14, 1947:

"I must write down that I am to be an artist.  Not in the sense of aethetic frippery, but in the sense of aesthetic craftsmanship; otherwise I will feel my loneliness continually--like this today.  The word craftsmanship takes care of the work angle & the word aesthetic the truth angle.  Angle.  It will be a life struggle with no consummation.  When something is finished, it cannot be possessed.  Nothing can be possessed but the struggle.  All our lives are consumed in possessing struggle but only when the struggle is cherished & directed to a final consummation outside of this life is it of any value.  I want to be the best artist it is possible for me to be, under God.

I do not want to be lonely all my life but people only make us lonelier by reminding us of God.  Dear God please help me to be an artist, please let it lead to You." (29)

Flannery O'Connor, Prayer Journal.  New York: Farrar, Straus, and Giroux Books, 2013.

Talking Tuesday: Reading Charles Taylor

Nicole Oresme, Wikipedia Commons

I'm finally getting to writing about How (Not) to be Secular, Reading Charles Taylor, by Reformed theologian James K.A. Smith.  I've written a few times that I want to reclaim a pre-modern mindset, to somehow re-inhabit an enchanted cosmos.  I think it is impossible to contemplate without first understanding the post-modern, post-secular mindset in which we currently find ourselves.

As I said previously, my main complaint about the book is that it is a) largely diagnostic without being particularly prescriptive, and b) at times, Smith seems to be having an esoteric argument with other academics about points of philosophy and theology that are hard for a layman to grasp.  I consider myself a reasonably well-read and educated person, and I struggled at times to follow where he was going.

That said, he does an excellent job of explaining our current age as described by Charles Taylor.  "On [Taylor's] account, our secular age is haunted, and always has been.  Certainly belief is contested and contestable in our secular age.  There's no going back.  Even seeking enchantment will always and only be reenchantment after disenchantment.  But almost as soon as unbelief becomes an option, unbelievers have doubts--which is to say, they begin to wonder if there isn't something "more."   They worry about the shape of a world so flattened by disenchantment" (61).

The medieval, premodern world had certain features that acted as "obstacles to unbelief:

1. The natural world was constituted as a cosmos that functioned semiotically, as a sign that pointed beyond itself, to what was more than nature.

2. Society itself was understood as something grounded in higher reality; earthly kingdoms were grounded in a heavenly kingdom.

3. In sum, people lived in an enchanted world, a world "charged" with presences, that was open and vulnerable, not closed and self-sufficient." (27)

Smith notes that even post-secular Christianity has been affected by disenchantment and unbelief.  "Faith is fraught; confession is haunted by an inescapable sense of its contestability.  We don't believe instead of doubting; we believe while doubting.  We're all Thomas now" (4). We begin from a place of unbelief, of doubt, a much harder place to start from in the spiritual life.

Image via 

The medieval Christian "assumed that human life found its ultimate meaning and telos in a transcendent eternity and that the demands of securing such an ultimate life required a certain ascetic relation to the pleasures and demands of mundane, domestic life....In Christendom, this tension is not resolved, but inhabited" (31-32, emphasis in original).  A place of openness, curiosity, childlike faith, these are easy places to begin, to grow from.  Post-modern belief is more difficult, because we cannot scientifically prove our faith.  With faith in science and reason placed above a cosmological worldview, then belief in what cannot be seen or proven or understood has nowhere to flourish.  The roof has closed over our heads, but we no longer notice or miss the view of the stars (51). Belief becomes strange and unthinkable (62).

In short, we have all become, to one extent or another, secularists, arguing our case on the terms of the world, rather than on historic, mystogogical terms.  "There is no ancien regine we can take for granted, no enchanted cosmos in which God resides and in which we are embedded.  So religion (and religious identity) changes, too...Ours is an Age of Authenticity (AA)....[It is] the understanding ...that each one of us has his/her own way of realizing our humanity, and that it is important to find and live out one's own, as against surrendering to conformity with a model imposed on us from the outside" (85, emphasis removed from original).

We've lost our belief and faith in the world beyond that which we can see.  And when we can see no further than that which is in front of us, there is little to drive us to anything but temporal pleasures.  Writes Smith:

"[E]ven believers end up defending a theistic universe rather than the biblical cosmos.  Eliminating mystery...even believers end up reading the Bible as if it were a treatise on such a universe;...Indeed, we only get the so-called war between science and religion once the modern cosmic imaginary has seeped into both believers and unbelievers....One can understand the trajectory that leads from this cosmic imaginary to materialism; if the immanent is going to be self-sufficient, as it were, then the material has to be all there is." (72).

Image via

That said, we are spiritual beings.  We are haunted by the thought that there is more, that God is really out there.  (Having the spark of the divine from our Creator gives us that nudge, but our pluralized world gives us no stable way to realize it).  Taylor's response for us as Christians is not to accept the rational worldview, that must be explained by science.  We have to stop engaging the world on the world's terms; we must instead engage it on God's terms.

"If Taylor is right, it seems to suggest that the Christian response to such converts to unbelief is not to have an argument about the data, or "evidences" but rather to offer an alternative story that offers a more robust, complex understanding of the Christian faith." (77, emphasis removed from original)

Moreover, our secular age, The Age of Authenticity, haven given up moral absolutes and common good, has moved instead to radical atomization, where individual expression is king.  "This contemporary social imaginary is crystallized in terms of authenticity.  So the primary--yea, only--value in such a world is choice....And tolerance is the last remaining virtue....it has changed no just the conditions of belief but the milieu of our everyday lived experience." (85-86, emphasis in original)

Hildegard Von Bingen

The spiritual world is always present, however, filling all things, both with good and evil.  Because we live in a disenchanted world, we become overwhelmed by suffering and evil, and seek different ways to ameliorate them (pg 123).  The worldly responses to this feeling of overwhelm are many but ultimately, of no effect, and certainly no spiritual good.  Our response to evil and suffering in the world, as Christians, should be to plead God's mercy, to accept the suffering as part of the human condition, as the role of a winnowing flame to guide our souls toward God.  This runs contrary to the therapeutic nature of our age, and even seems faintly ridiculous.

To fully reclaim the pre-modern mindset, we must also reclaim "a healthy sense of an expected "gap" between the ideals of the City of God and the realities of the earthly city" (page 134).  We must know and understand that "all fall short of the glory of God." (Romans 3:23)

In short, we must know and understand the multi-dimensionality of this life.  We must know and believe that the angels and demons move amongst us, and that there are realms beyond our understanding.  That we cannot know everything about the world.  That we are fallen so far from the glory of God that we cannot hope to reclaim our place with Him without God's help.  We can seek to alleviate suffering where we can, but be wary of falling into Utopian traps.  I think it means a measure of aloofness from the world, from its cares and concerns.  I think it means a certain level of remove from the consumption habits of the broader society.  And I think it means cultivating a rhythm of life that circulates around the life of the Church, which nourishes us, and gives us spiritual food for this journey.

All book quotations taken from:

James K.A. Smith, How (Not) To Be Secular: Reading Charles Taylor. Grand Rapids: William B. Eerdmans Publishing Company, 2014.

Please do not quote or copy without permission.

Scrubbing Pots and Pans

One sewing mistake I made this rotation was the Pots and Pans Dress.  I just didn't like wearing it.  I wore it a couple of times, just to be sure it wasn't just a weird day, but I just didn't like it.  It didn't feel like "me" and I felt off every time I tried to make it work.  At first I thought it was a problem of the high contrast pocket facing.  So I redid the pockets to be plain on top, and moved them up so they didn't cross onto the blue bottom.  It didn't really make me love the dress any more.   The basic problem is that it really didn't look right with any cardigans I own, and I couldn't see myself wearing the dress in the summer because it came out a bit shorter than I like.  I also realized that while I love novelty prints, I really prefer them in small doses, like on a simple blouse worn with a fitted skirt.

Sometimes fabric whispers to me what it should be, and sometimes I ignore it.  This was such a case.  I bought the fabric for a blouse, decided it should be a dress, and didn't like the dress.  So I made it back into a blouse.  The fabric and I are much happier with this arrangement.  (It really didn't take much to convert it--I just had to unpick the blue section from the top part, remove all the elastic, and finish the hem.  It is a little bigger than my normal Portrait blouse pattern, but still highly wearable.

And the skirt!  This was the second skirt I made on my redraft of Anne Adams 9481, but I used McCall's 6361 for the two-part pocket pattern.  (More about the M6361 later).  I used some leftover Japanese cotton from my beloved bunny blouse for the pocket facing to remove some bulk.  In retrospect, I probably should have used plain red broadcloth (I have a bit from another project), because the bunny fabric shows a little more than I thought it would, but I still really like the skirt (and the fabric is super cute!  It will look great with the bunny blouse this summer!)

The drafting changes I made to the skirt pattern were to remove all the seam allowances (I've been doing this on the fly for some time, but wanted to make a pattern copy that was cleaner), to add an extra set of darts to the back skirt pieces, and to remove some of the excess fabric that pools at the back of my waist (I guess a hollow back adjustment?  I didn't cut a wedge out--I more removed the top seam allowance from the back pieces, and then adjusted the lengths of the front and back to make them fit.  It fixed the problem!)

Because I'm still working out how much to take in the seams on the newly sized skirt, I did make a small mistake on the back seam allowance, and ended up with a skirt that was just slightly too snug, so I pulled out the zipper and unpicked the seam and redid it with a 5/8" seam allowance which was perfect.  I am always amazed how such small increments can make such a big difference to fit.  I had put in a 6" zip by mistake anyway, and I should have put in a 9", as six inches just didn't give me enough room to comfortably get into the skirt.  I fixed that the second time around. 

I also took the hem up about 1 1/4" after applying bias tape, because the skirt just looked too long on me.  I did a machine hem and I really like the sporty vibe the wider hem gives the skirt.

(I forgot to add that I had originally lined the skirt with some beautiful rayon bemberg, which I hate working with, but really made for a lovely finished product, but my mistake with the back seam was worse in the lining and I just could not get the skirt to fit properly with the lining in, so out it came.  I wear slips with almost all my skirts and dresses anyway, so I didn't really mind that much.  I minded the wasted time and resources more)

I'm quite pleased with this skirt (and the one I made before it to test the fit; it will join my summer rotation).  Skirts are so tricky to get fitted well!  Particularly when you have a high rise and a large hip-to-waist ratio.  I'll write more about fitting that other skirt in a separate post.

Just the facts:

Pots and Pans blouse: vintage fabric, Simplicity 1080 (shortened to blouse length, all shaping removed), bias tape

Red twill skirt: Robert Kaufman Hampton Twill in tomato, zipper, bias binding, contrasting cotton fabric for pockets, petersham ribbon interfacing, Anne Adams 9481/McCall's 6361 with drafting changes

Shoes: dansko via ebay

Earrings: gift from long ago

First Light Frock

Oh, look, another one!  This is the second of the dresses I made to add to my spring rotation.  

I used some Cloud 9 fabric that I had bought in the winter, thinking it was flannel, and then turned out to be plain cotton.  I really liked the print, and was disappointed it wasn't flannel.  (There is apparently a similar flannel print from this fabric collection, but I didn't like it quite as much as this one)

I put it aside to save for spring, and then forgot I was saving it for spring and put it into my summer pile.  When I re-assessed my sewing list and my wardrobe for the spring, I realized this dress needed to be in my closet now.  (Just for the record, my spring rotation is sitting around 26 garments.  I'm finding 25-27 garments is about the right number for me for a rotation)

It was a very fast make--I did most of the construction on the heels of the Liberty dress, and then finished the bias the next day.  Nothing much to report about construction.  Since I did the redraft a couple of weeks ago, I think I've got the kinks worked out with the sleeves, and I'm pretty happy with the length.  I thought this print would benefit from being broken up across the middle, and I also plan to wear it with a cardigan a good bit, so I think it is okay.

The fabric is slightly heavier than the Liberty lawn (being mid-weight cotton), so it is nice for these in-between days where you want a sweater and tights, but not boots or a coat.

The helicopter pods are really coming down from the trees now.  We get about six weeks of mess from the trees in the neighborhood, between the pre-seeds, the flower petals, the helicopter pods, and then finally, the leaves come out and it stops until the fall.  The pre-seeds are the worst--they track onto everything and are just kind of gross, especially when wet.  I don't mind the petal showers so much, but they can make the sidewalks look freshly snowed upon!

Senior photo.  #nope

Tucked pockets again.

All in all, a successful make!  I finally cracked my skirt sloper, I think.  I now have two very well fitting skirts to add to the various rotations, in addition to my beloved denim skirt.  One skirt has gone right into my spring closet, and the other is waiting with my summer line up.  I'll write more about those when I get photos taken.  I feel quite confident now about cutting into my chambray for another summer skirt.

Just the facts:

First Light dress: Cloud 9 fabric, Spring Woodland in blue, from fabric.com, gray bias binding, elastic, Simplicity 1080

Sweater: LLBean

Earrings: Etsy

Necklace: Etsy

Tights: Foot Traffic via Sock Dreams

Danskos: via ebay

Liberty dress

I know I said I was done with my spring sewing, but I did a little reassessment of both my sewing list, and my closet and realized I had a few gaps in my spring rotation.  I also realized that at least two of the projects I had earmarked for summer would really work better as transitional pieces, so I've decided to pop them into the spring rotation.  

So I present: the Liberty dress.  I'm starting to experiment a bit with cotton lawn (it is so beautiful!  But thin, so not great for cold weather).  I have had my eye on this Liberty of London knock-off by Robert Kaufman for several years.  I had a swatch in my stash for a long time, and then it was on sale at Grey's Fabrics sometime last fall, and I snapped it up quick.  

It then languished in my stash all through the cold months.  I'm really glad I didn't immediately sew it up, because it would have been a frankendress, and I don't think I would have liked it as much.  The Dottie Angel frock really shows off the print nicely, and I am happy with the result.

I've gone back to using tucks on the last few dresses I've made (I'm working through my summer sewing pile) because I realized that they look better on dresses that I don't plan to wear a cardigan with regularly.  For dresses that I will almost always wear an outer layer, the elastic tucks or elastic band across the middle look great, but the tucks just look a bit better ala carte.  It is true, however, that some prints need a bit of breaking up in the middle of the dress, so then the elastic across the middle looks better.  I don't always know ahead of time which will work.  In this case, I could tell when I was cutting that tucks were going to be the way to go.  I also moved the bust tucks down a little bit more from where I had originally moved them--with the onset of my later 30s, my chest is dropping dramatically fast!  As long as they stay clear of my waist line, I'm okay with that.  :)

A bit of elastic across the back to gather the fullness.  I also added some length to this dress, as I've been a bit unhappy with the length of the last few dresses.  I fear I may have erred a bit on the long side, but I know that I like my warm weather dresses to be a bit longer because I prefer not to show so much of my bare legs.

This print is just so pretty--I think it photographed pretty well.  I think it will be lovely in the fall too, during those weeks of Indian summer when it is still hot, but I'm over my summer clothes.  I plan to wear this dress through the end of my spring rotation and then put it away until the fall.  I'm getting smarter about how to use transition pieces wisely.

I'm also back to using the tucked pocket that comes with the pattern--it just looks so nice, despite the small fussiness of putting it together.  I don't mind the other styles of pockets I've tried, but I really like this one.  I did have a bit of a panic when trying to figure out what color thread to use, as the color I had thought would work looked odd.  I ended up with a khaki-colored thread, which surprised me.  I was happy with how little it showed in the end.

It is still in the 40s today, and a bit damp, so I'm wearing a long cotton sweater and tights still.  I think the longer length looks better with this shoe style too.  I'm still wearing boots regularly, but am kind of wanting to wear some lighter shoes too.

I put a bit of navy cotton crochet trim around the bottom of the dress, just for a little something extra.  I think it is okay, but I guess if it really bugs me, I can just take it out!

Just the facts:

Liberty dress: Robert Kaufman London Calling cotton lawn fabric (from Grey's Fabric, but also available from fabric.com), bias trim, crochet lace, elastic

Cotton sweater: LLBean

Shoes: Dansko via ebay

Earrings: etsy

Tights: Sock Dreams (Foot Traffic)

Yarn Along: Knitting, Reading, Watching

~knitting~

I have something to show for myself this week!  I've finished both girls' Pascha sweaters (finally!) and have made good progress on my sapphire pullover.  The yarn for my dad's vest came a week or two ago, and I'm hoping to swatch it up soon.

I actually finished knitting the girls' sweaters about a week ago, but the buttons I had originally picked to put on the sweaters turned out not to match that well.  I had picked them in evening light, I think, and in daylight, they just didn't match.  I ordered another vintage set from etsy and popped them right on the sweaters yesterday.  I'm happy with these buttons!

As for the sapphire sweater, I've finished the body, and am working the decreases on one sleeve.  I'm knitting the sleeve flat, as is my preference, since I really hate double pointed needles and will go to great lengths to avoid using them.  I don't mind seaming up the sleeve at the end.

~reading~

I've finished a few books this week, and put a few more into the queue.  I'm through volume one of War and Peace, and am about 30 pages into volume 2.  I think I'm about 330 pages in, so far.  I did find vol. 1 a bit of a slog, since it mostly details the Russian troop movements in Austria, but volume two picks back up in Moscow with the Rostovs and the Bolkonskys, and I'm finding it much more engaging.

I also finished The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe this week, and have put The Horse and His Boy on my nightstand stack.

I read Flannery O'Connor's Prayer Journal in two short sessions (it is only about 40 pages, and a very fast read).  I really enjoyed it, and look forward to reading her other writing.  I was encouraged to realize that her struggles are my struggles, and also, there is nothing new under the sun.  The edition I have has been padded out a bit, and includes a facsmile of her original journal, plus a long introduction by a secular scholar of her work (I would skip it, personally.  I think the author doesn't really understand what it is to be a person of serious Christian faith, and it shows in his assessment of the journal).

I also (finally!) finished Fr. John Behr's Becoming Human over the weekend.  I've been poking through it for months now and finally just soldiered on to the end.  It is a brief book, very beautifully printed, but so profound and poetic.  I highly recommend it.  I already loaned our copy out to a friend!

I picked up a volume of Turgenev, and another of Michael Ondaatje's early books, but haven't cracked them yet (I'm trying to get through War and Peace before opening a new book...or at least, through volume 2 of W/P)  I'm also planning to re-read A Man Called Peter by Catherine Marshall, and Christy, also by Catherine Marshall.  I read them many years ago and enjoyed them.  I'm also hoping to re-read Lloyd Douglas' The Robe, which I read in junior high.

I'm trying to take a snowball approach to my reading list, and read through one book at a time, rather than constantly starting new books that I don't finish in a timely manner.  I'm also giving myself permission to speed read parts of some books.  I've always been in the habit of carefully reading books, every word, every footnote, but I can get bogged down (I'm a fast reader, but still...).  I learned to speed read for content in graduate school when my advisor got into the habit of assigning me six books a week to read, in addition to my other coursework.  I'm finding it useful for certain sections of War and Peace.

~watching~

I've been steering my watching toward documentaries and (more) edifying movies/shows during Lent, and have a few recommendations.

The Count of Monte Cristo (2002) with Jim Caviezel is excellent.  He brings a great spiritual dimension to the redemptive suffering of Edmund Dantes, and the casting and production are wonderful.  Plus it is a cracking good story.

Grantchester (both seasons).  I realize this is sort of a period police procedural, with a vicar at the center of it, but I really enjoy the series for what it says about human suffering, the human condition more generally, and about the private battles we all face.  James Norton is a treat to watch, and the relationship between his character and Robson Greene's character is so interesting.

A Man Called Peter (1955).  I saw this movie again recently, and found it so uplifting and spiritually encouraging.  I realized again that there is nothing new under the sun, and people are people, fallen humankind.  We can only learn the depths of our falleness, our need for the Savior.

Secrets of Great British Castles (netflix, streaming).  I'm currently working through this series  just finished the series, and it is a great little documentary on the history of significant castles in the UK.  Each episode details one castle's history.  I've learned a lot of little factoids along the way!  (Did you know that the Tower of London and Claremont Castle were both built by Gandulf of Rochester in the time of William the Conqueror, and featured two towers each?  JRR Tolkein, being a student of Anglo-Saxon history, seized on this little bit of history and a legend was born)

Tudor Monastery Farm (YouTube).  I highly recommend this little series.  It is a docu-series in which three historians undertake to live on a Tudor-era monastery farm for a season, and live as they would have lived in 1500, in a pre-modern setting and mindset.  It is fascinating to watch and learn, and has informed some of what I'm thinking about in terms of capturing the pre-modern mindset (more about that next week).

I usually watch The Robe at least once during Lent, and would like to watch The Passion again.  I did so last Lent and found it to be a useful addition to the season.  Two more weeks to Pascha!

Linking with Ginny for Yarn Along!

Talking Tuesday: Reclaiming Conversation

Image via google images.

I've quoted Sherry Turkle in this space before; once a techno-optimist, the MIT-based researcher has been turned into a pessimist.  Her first book, Alone Together, written at the cusp of the hand-held digital revolution, now seems eerily prescient.  Her latest book, Reclaiming Conversation: The Power of Talk in a Digital Age, details how far down the road we've traveled in terms of losing our communication skills, our ability to form communities, and sustain relationships.  Gracy Olmstead, a writer at The American Conservative whom I admire, wrote a stellar review of Turkle's book.

Writes Olmstead:

"Turkle contends that we need moments of solitude in order to develop emotionally, mentally, and relationally: solitude allows us to daydream, discover new ideas, and build a true sense of self based on self-knowledge rather than on the opinions of others.  When social media such as Facebook become our go-to in moments of quiet, "we risk building a false self, " while also damaging our creative capabilities" (p 47)

I know for myself, if I don't have some solitude, some staring at the wall and letting my mind wander time, I suffer for it.  I feel unable to function fully.  If our lives are constantly in front of a screen, instead of a book, a lovely landscape, or just a blank wall, we will forever inhabit an uncomfortable space.  It is hard to turn off the screen, to set reasonable limits.  I know there are many days when I feel I'm in front of a computer screen a large portion of the day.  Perhaps I'm doing the household errands, shopping for groceries, or other things that need to be done, but at the end of the day, I feel I'm accomplished nothing real, and feel worse for it.

Olmstead notes,

"Even though many young people Turkle talks to have a hard time envisioning life without modern communications technology, they're also quick to admit that something is wrong with their relationships.  They want to communicate better with their loved ones but feel they've lost both the means and the opportunity to do so....Solving this problem will require intentionality, a conscious choice to put away our devices when we are together and carve out precious time for conversation." (47-48)

Even with limited screen use in our home (we have no smartphones or iPads, do not allow communication technology at the meal table, we don't have a tv or video games), it still has a pernicious way of invading the conversations, and of constituting a barrier to communication within the family, both immediate and far-flung.

"While we should not neglect the goods that technology can provide, we should not embrace them without a thought to the possible consequences either.  With each stage of technological development, we're encouraged to separate ourselves more from the physical space we inhabit.  We're encouraged to live in a virtual reality in which we can distance ourselves from both the blessings and curses of real presence." (48)

I think this is very important to stress.  I'm not suggesting that we should all go off and live off the grid, and disdain all modern communication technology.  What I am saying is that perhaps we should negotiate with technology such that it is an enhancement to our lives, rather than a rusty chain that pulls our lives down, and poisons our relationships.  Perhaps we put phones and screens away for meal times, and do not answer the landline during dinner.  Perhaps we designate our bedrooms as communications technology-free zones, and use them only for sleeping and reading books.  Take fewer pictures and capture the moment in memory instead.

The internet is designed to keep our minds engaged away from the physical world, and our eyes on the screen.  It is a wonderful tool, but like any tool, it can be used for good or not.  I've learned a great deal about sewing and knitting from various internet tutorials, and have far greater access to reasonably-priced fibers, notions, and patterns via the internet than I would possibly have here in the city.  It has been a great research tool for my writing and for medical information that would otherwise be difficult to obtain.  On the other hand, I've been guilty of listening to one of my children talk to me with my eyes glued to the screen, only half engaged with what they are telling me.  Lately, I'm trying to set particular time limits with my screen time.  (i.e. I use a screen only during certain hours of the day, or for specific tasks for a set amount of time).  I've also found that the best antidote to too much screen time is a good amount of working-with-my-hands time and (the sometimes painful) engagement with the people in front of me.

Quotes taken from:
Gracy Olmstead, "Your Friends Are Not an App." The American Conservative, March/April 2016, pp 47-48.

Please do not quote or copy without permission.

Them megrems

I am a little prone to migraine headaches, and although they haven't bothered me for some years now, I'm having my second one in four days today, so I'm down for the count.  I have a great Talking Tuesday post nearly ready, but it will have to keep another week.

Please forgive me!