When I was little, my sister and I, along with a neighborhood friend, used to imagine ourselves in all sorts of interesting situations. One of our favorite settings for such ventures was the “jungle gym” play-set in the backyard. Many adventures were centered around this simple construction of wood, metal, and rope. Playing in this structure transported us into a world of our own. By climbing up the ladder, walking around the interior of the play-set, and then sliding down the pole, we were transformed into a different world (often one where animals could talk, and where everything seemed just a bit unnatural). By sliding down the slide and jumping onto our bicycles, we became police officers, whizzing down the street to solve some mystery or prevent crime. Using our imaginations, we were able to take our surroundings and transport ourselves into whatever place, whatever situation we wanted.
That was many years ago. I no longer play on the set in the backyard, and I don’t have any desire to enforce the law for a living. There is a way, however, that I can cut myself off from my surroundings, and delve into a world all my own. This way is not via my imagination, but rather the imaginations of others. As a child, I used to watch the Jetsons and wish that technology could take me to different places, different worlds. And now, technology can. Perhaps not in the same way that the Jetsons flew about in their space cars, but in a way nearly as interesting.
The technology of which I speak has become very prevalent in culture today. It appears in various forms, but has the same “transporting” effects. Devices are owned by nearly every teen in the country that have the ability to lift a person out of their current surroundings and into another with the twist of a dial, the press of a button, or the click of a “mouse.” iPods, cell phones, laptops and the like all serve these purposes. They don’t innately, but have the ability.
We’ve all seen it, perhaps in dozens of situations. You’re walking through a mall, but really are miles away with a friend. You’re sitting at the airport, waiting. The person next to you looks nice, but isn’t actually there. Culture provides us with the tools to whisk ourselves away into whatever world we like, whether that is with friends, or caught up in the solitude of our own minds. As soon as the buds go in, the bubble pops out. You’re safe. Confrontation no longer becomes an option. That conversation you really don’t want to have, or that person you really don’t want to interact with suddenly no longer poses a threat. You are wrapped in your bubble of protection.
And cut off from reality. I think we do not realize how much is missed by resorting to such actions.
Imagine this scenario: Two new people show up one night at your church. They just moved from out of town, and have both chosen this church to attend. Andrew quickly makes new friends and has a great time. Kayla, on the other hand, has had a harder time. She doesn’t seem to be making friends, and is often by herself. Both have great personalities, and both have the potential to interact with others, but only Andrew is exercising that potential. The difference between the two? Action. When Andrew is at church, he is constantly talking with new people, and spending time developing new relationships. When Kayla arrives, she chooses to sit by herself, iPod in hand; ear buds in, bubble up.
How is such a bubble to be penetrated? Or is that the point?
Kayla missed precious opportunities not only to know other people, but to invest in their lives. Our self-centered society tells us to focus on what will please and better ourselves, and so we have been trained to look out for number one. Think of all the time gone by – never to be yours again – that has been spent on yourself instead of on others. By resorting to our protective technology-bubbles, we are satisfying our needs, but perhaps neglecting the needs of others. We’re also missing the chance to get to know other people, to share in their joys, and weep over their sorrows. In a word, we’re missing a very dear part of life.
Just as my jungle gym was very innocent and provided the means of “escaping” to a different world, the world of my imagination, so technology is merely a means to an end. It can bring great pleasure, but when used in excess can keep you from the very things you seek – happiness, joy, fulfillment. Because when people escape, they’re escaping from the things that make them uncomfortable. But sometimes the things that are uncomfortable in the beginning bring the greatest joy and comfort in the end.
