Lenten reveries

Right now I'm listening to the drizzle of DC rain, sitting in a cozy brownstone on Massachusetts ave. No, we didn't suddenly move to the nation's capitol. I'm visiting my sister :) Friday is a busy day for her on the Hill, so I'm taking the afternoon for daydreaming. There's something lovely about being in a city where no one knows you, expects you to be anywhere, or to do anything. Even in New Haven, I can easily become too absorbed in to-do's, and don't take the time to just be. 

During this season of Lent, I've decided to take a sabbatical from social media (and while I realize that I AM writing a blog, I think of this more as external processing than social interaction). This is a lot easier said than done. I didn't realize how difficult it would be until I subconsciously reached into my pocket to see if that vibration I just felt was a new post. It's like having one ear always tuned to another conversation while trying to speak with the person right in front of you. Something is terribly wrong with our, or at least my, priorities...

I remember when social media first exploded on the scene. I was a freshman in college, and it was as if the world was suddenly open. Everyone I knew could be at my fingertips! I could see what they were up to, show them what I was up to, and even leave witty comments on their cute pictures. What a grand pastime! But as the years went by, and this one site in particular became more and more engrained in daily life, it became less an exciting connection with others and more a daily chore. In fact, more like an albatross. This nagging tug that told me to check in, even though I wasn't interested in what so and so had for dinner, or affected by what such and such did this weekend. It began to invade my downtime, penetrate my work life, even assault my family time. Seriously??

Since when did technology become a hindrance to being present?

So my Lenten pursuit is to shed this awful tick, this habit of perpetually concerning myself with a virtual stream of endless updates from afar while real people around me are waiting to be talked to. Encouraged or uplifted. Heard. Seen. Could it be that every time I look down at the device in my hand, I'm missing an opportunity to be a light to someone around me? Even smiling at the person that passes me on the sidewalk matters. I want to be open to whatever or whoever comes my way, mentally present and willing to engage. But it's more than changing the way I interact with those around me. It's an attempt to change what frequency I'm tuned in to.

What if we all quieted our minds and our smart phones and listened? Listened in that sweet silence for the still, small voice that only a tranquil soul can hear. What if all that updating and commenting is really only a means to preoccupy me, to distract me from listening deeper? Sometimes I'm afraid of silence. I think most of us are. But I truly believe that's where we hear God best. When we pull away from the noise and the hurry, when we center down, we can tune in to the Voice that matters most. My prayer during this Lent season is that I might be present, take the time to be still, and listen up.