Connected; for better or for worse, 'til death do us part... or maybe longer!?

After reading an article in the NY Times book review about a book called "Connected" I was inspired to take my "Internet break". Once the "break" was underway, I decided to go all out and delete my Facebook and Twitter accounts.

The book, written by Nicholas A. Christakis and James H. Fowler, is about "The Surprising Power of Our Social Networks and How They Shape Our Lives". Weeks after reading the review I continued to think about my connections; my friends, my family and my online social network. I kept coming back to Facebook and Twitter and started to wonder how these things might be affecting me in ways I didn't even know!

If you don't feel like reading the (very short and very interesting) article, this snippet will give you some idea of what the research is about:

Christakis and Fowler explore network contagion in everything from back pain (higher incidence spread from West Germany to East Germany after the fall of the Berlin Wall) to suicide (well known to spread throughout communities on occasion) to sex practices (such as the growing prevalence of oral sex among teenagers) to politics (where the denser your network of connections, the more ideologically intense and intractable your beliefs are likely to be). And while it’s hardly surprising that emotion can be transmitted from person to person, the authors report that getting a $10,000 raise is less likely to make you happy than having a happy friend is — in fact, the raise is less likely to make you happy than is having a friend who has a friend who has a friend who is happy. They even argue — and this is sure to generate controversy — that the obsessive drive to create “nut free” environments is not the result of any real increase in children’s allergies but rather something akin to an epidemic of adult hysteria, spread via network transmission.

I had chosen to participate in Facebook and Twitter for a number of different reasons and for the most part I enjoyed both and found them to be useful and efficient in terms of creating invitations for events, promoting shows, (pushing my blog), etc. One argument from the article that might tip you towards involvement with these networks is the idea that "as among primates, those humans who are best able to manipulate social networks to their advantage thrive" and we all want to thrive and survive, but when does dipping a toe in the water cross over to drowning and do you have control and/or awareness of the transition from one level of involvement to the next? Due to the nature and speed of technology, specifically the Internet, I have to wonder if the rules for every type of interaction have changed completely! Monkeys picking nits are far from websites getting hits.

What finally pushed me to drop out of two of my major networks was the feeling that they possessed a growing energy much more powerful than myself and that that energy may not be a positive one. It may not be negative but it's too big for me to know what impact it could have on my life and it almost seems to have a life or presence of its own! Scott Stossel notes, "the more interesting implications are philosophical. A social network, while not quite sentient, acquires its own agency; it wants things, and it wants us, the nodes of which it consists, to do certain things, whether to gain weight or have oral sex at age 13."

I don't know the answer but I find it interesting to ponder: What does Facebook want me to do? What does Twitter want me to do?

The idea of the connectedness of a flock of birds was mentioned towards the end of the article and although I've written about this concept before and it always reminds me of a theatre technique called Viewpoints. One of the exercises we did in college under the Viewpoints technique involved moving in unison as much as possible in different formations with our eyes closed. Not trying to listen or guess what other people were doing the idea was to sort of "open up" to an unknown sense and to follow the impulses you received. It was a strange exercise and can be difficult to do but when it's happening it's amazing to see how people really do move together.

When I injured my back and saw a chiropractor/holistic healer, one of her healing concepts was to work with everyone in the same room at the same time to increase the healing trend from one patient to the next. I can't remember the name for this but she told me the theory had something to do with pendulums put in a room that eventually start swinging together.

If scientists, artists and healers have all danced around the same idea, as difficult as it may be to believe, I find it worth exploring. The bottom line for me is that I'm trying to practice mindfulness at this time in my life and I've found that the Internet seems to suck up too much of my precious energy. I don't know if I'll rejoin or stay Facebook-free but for now I think I'm starting to feel OK without it. The pang of panic that prickled up inside me when it was time to click "delete" was a shock and an indicator. The intensity of attachment to my account showed me that deleting would be a good experiment for me to conduct. Observing my own thoughts and reactions to the process has been interesting and I recommend the challenge to anyone who's willing to try just for the sake of seeing how it makes you feel! Our reactions show the weight these "things" hold in our lives.

Stossel ends the article by saying, "network science has potential to be used for good. But then again, if all the strutting and fretting that we believe to be the product of our individual free will is really only the antlike scurrying of a collection of nodes, can anyone really be said to “use” the network? Or is the network always using us?"

I'm not sure yet but I'd love to hear what you think!

Sincerely,

Facebook-Free-For-Now

The Bomb

Sitting in the window of my temporary Potrero Hill home I see my city humming and glowing below. Just like sitting under the stars can be soothing for some, looking down on the world from a hilltop is my favorite way to clear my mind. Things aren't going exactly as planned, but when do they ever? A major chunk of my savings had to be used ahead of schedule but at least I had it and now I'm back to the usual: Broke in terms of money but rich in terms of life. Life is beautiful and life is an adventure. If there weren't trees to climb and rivers to cross I couldn't pretend to be Indiana Jones. I mean, what fun would that be?

Ever since I could read, books have been saving my life and once again Henry has come through. So many times the printed words of others have illuminated my experience as if they were writing just for me. It makes me feel like everything's OK. Right now I'm reading "Tropic of Capricorn". Here's a thought for the day: "Things take place instantaneously, but there's a long process to be gone through first. What you get when something happens is only the explosion, and the second before that spark. But everything happens according to law-and with the full consent and collaboration of the whole cosmos. Before I could get up and explode the bomb had to be properly prepared, properly primed. After putting things in order for the bastards up above I had to be taken down from my high horse, had to be kicked around like a football, had to be stepped on, squelched, humiliated, fettered, manacled, made impotent as a jellyfish." - Henry Miller, Tropic of Capricorn.

I dig it.

High on Henry Miller and Hieronymus Bosch

My body and mind pulsate as this morning’s caffeine makes its way through all systems. Buzzed, and high on Henry Miller, I’m ravenously devouring page after page of “Big Sur and the Oranges of Hieronymus Bosch”.

Try as I might to significantly lighten my load before the move I can’t seem to part with a single book and the collection continues to grow as new “Amazon” arrivals reach me daily. I’m an addict.

My first experience with Miller came when I borrowed Justin’s copy of “Tropic of Cancer” a year or two back and I tore through that with an equal hunger. Finding it delightfully timely and perfectly suited for my (then) melancholy mood and general disdain towards life I was drawn in from the very first page:

“I am living in the Villa Borghese. There is not a crumb of dirt anywhere, nor a chair misplaced. We are all alone here and we are dead. […] There will be more calamities, more death, more despair. Not the slightest indication of a change anywhere. The cancer of time is eating us away. Our heroes have killed themselves, or are killing themselves. The hero, then, is not Time, but Timelessness. We must get in step, a lock step toward the prison of death. There is no escape. The weather will not change.” Miller p.1

Pretty grim for a book that actually contains quite a bit of humor but I returned the copy to its owner and only today, received my own. I have recently found a new joy in re-reading books and discovering how different they sound at different times in my life.

Perkier now, in this current period of transition and renewal, I’m finding “Big Sur…” to be written just for me. Perhaps I heavily project, or maybe divine timing really does exist, in either case, I’ll try to share some parallels I’ve drawn so far.

Moving for my art, I frequently ponder the strangeness of abandoning the thriving artistic community in San Francisco for “a pit” (that is, according to the peanut gallery) like LA. However, I’m compelled. Then I stumble upon this, “It is my belief that the immature artist seldom thrives in idyllic surroundings. What he seems to need though I am the last to advocate it, is more first-hand experience of life – more bitter experience, in other words. In short, more struggle, more privation, more anguish, more disillusionment”. Miller p. 13

Reading this my instinct seems, somehow confirmed or rather illuminated. If everyone’s negative predictions come true, I may very well be injecting myself into an environment that will further my disillusionment and stir my bitter distaste towards (parts) of society and life in general. Or not.

I also worry about being so isolated, so potentially alone and far from the comfort of my 7x7 world. But then Miller states that, “artists never thrive in colonies. Ants do” and “what the budding artist needs is the privilege of wrestling with his problems in solitude”. Miller p.13

I have my insignificant little problems to wrestle and I’ve moved many times in my young life. Every time there is a period of real solitude while the new home is being established and during these times, difficult as they may be, my art has always thrived.

As my Buddhist practice deepens I am inspired to go more minimal. Wishing to be free, or feel freer from my possessions and attachments I have been downsizing when it comes to my belongings. It has been an interesting process, sometimes painful but ultimately rewarding for me. When it came to my artwork, I finally chose to let go of my paintings too. Snapping pictures for posterity I have placed about half on the sidewalk outside and will prime the remaining canvases to be used again. Creating a blank slate for my imagination and releasing the work that came before as a snake sheds her skin or a monk destroys his beautiful sand mandala.

“If he is an artist he will be compelled to make sacrifices which worldly people find absurd and unnecessary. In following the inner light he will inevitably choose for his boon companion poverty. And, if he has in him the makings of a great artist, he may renounce everything, even his art”. Miller p.15

Although my physical environment will soon change, I know in my heart it’s of little importance seeing as how my own mind is my reality and this body my current home. An ancient Yogic Sutra by Patanjali states that, “through contentment, supreme joy is gained”. Miller points to a similar notion saying, “one’s destination is never a place but rather a new way of looking at things. Which is to say that there are no limits to vision.” p.25 Can I find contentment or new vision this moment? Can I ever? Will I?

Pressing forward I go, still unsure, excited, always questioning, always hoping. Then scratching all that, trying to let it all go and trying to stay present and mindful. I aim for some kind of yet-to-be-discovered artistic integrity based on little more than my intuition and insanity. Life is good! Onward.