roads to go

We always walked wherever we needed to go--mainly because the only place we went was to Derek's house, but the notion of "see you in five" has swooped back into my adulthood. I feel twelve again--no car, nowhere important to drive to, yet most of my friends are within a ten minute walk in almost any direction, so when we make plans, it's a simple "see you in five" conversation.

 I have mixed feelings about the whole concept--I love the ability to walk out the door and be with people so soon, yet the thought of living in such a small radius when there is a whole world out there frustrates me.

 Tomorrow, I board a plane for Atlanta. I'm going to a conference for work, and while a few months ago, I was excited--excited by thought of "travelling for work", of visiting a new city, of feeling like I'm "going somewhere", as I procrastinate trip prep, I'm rather saddened by the thought of it all: leaving my dog, leaving my friends, leaving at what always feels like the least convenient time, even though there really isn't anything to hold me back.

 Maybe that's what keeps people living in the same place for years and years or going back to the places they grew up. Are we all just bodies in search of "home"? I recognize that some people were born to travel; they live for seeing the world and never settling down in one place. I thought I could be one of them, but the longer I stay in Seattle, the more it seems I'm supposed to really be here, stay here. I could explore this area for the rest of my life and still not see it all, I think.

And yet, does the notion of "putting down roots" mean anything in a world that is so dynamic, in a market that keeps all residents unsure of where they'll call home for the next year or two?

technology

Technology. I’m torn. Some days, I think it is the most helpful thing; others, I want rid of it entirely.

I aspire to the simple life. These days, I wonder if that’s even possible. A while back, I got rid of my smart phone & tried my best to pare down to some form of simplicity. I did a lot of knitting those months (I really do just love to knit, though).

One day, I had this odd realization that technology may actually be in our favor. Working in marketing in the tech industry often has me convinced that it’s all just business and economy. However, with all of the talk of “cloud” and “connected devices,” I’ve started embracing it all. When I come home, all of my devices really are connected. I can access my photos or documents from anywhere (or at least I would if I knew how to do it right; I’m still working on it). It’s actually magical: I can find simplicity in having this easy, unified life.

Shelves & shelves of books (or in my case magazines) can live on a single device. While I adore the comfort of books & have yet to fully adopt the Kindle, I appreciate the archiving of Poets & Writers and The Atlantic; I can search my notes & highlights & back-issues. Magic.

I can store & organize all of my writing in a single ½” thick device rather than wasted trees. I can look up anything from anywhere using internet on my phone.

Am I the only person who is still amazed by this? We have so easily adopted into the tech culture that we tend to forget how insane it really is.

Yet I still resist: for fear of losing what I probably never had having grown up in a world where the internet always existed in some form. I prefer to ask someone a question rather than “Google” it. I prefer to, of course, read a book in-hand rather than press a button to get to the next page. I prefer to find my way by getting lost rather than listening to a mechanical voice tell me the “convenient” way. And I am torn between typing up writing & writing by hand.

Think about the technology in your life. Is it a nuisance or a God-send? Does it simplify your life or make it more complicated?

I’m constantly seeking balance; to embrace where it actually helps & to push away where it shuts off human contact and interferes with life experience. Here’s to typing away & posting words from my fingertips to the internet.