On Pen and Paper

There’s something about technology that destroyed the joy of learning for me. In high school each evening, I found myself wedged cozily at my desk, trading multicolored pens in and out to trace and rethink the information I learned throughout the day. On paper with a pen brought me to a state of flow, concentration and peace that expanded my understanding, brought a prolonged sense of satisfaction and created my enjoyment of learning and engaging with abstract ideas.

I didn’t understand, until now, that so much of it was about the physical sensation of learning. What is it about the blue light of a screen that stifles my passion for knowledge? Is it the association to multitasking? Is it the ease of changing channels? No. I think it’s that when I lean to trace my finger across the page, it’s cold. That a pen to idea is defacing, disconnected, grounded in the cloud, but not my paper-clutched palms. That’s when I lost the joy. An ipad is techy and cool yes. Efficient and sleek, ok. But the stack of papers I used to carry on my back as a physical sense of accomplishment disappeared. There’s no page to flip through, no notes to reorganize and map, reshuffle or redo. Technology sucked the experience, the life out of learning.

Maybe I can find something easier, but I forgot where it was. Maybe I can search for common words, but can I connect it to what I used to know?

I’ve been contemplating what’d I’d do with my time if I didn’t let social media start, tag along throughout, and end my day. (thanks relative unemployment) But, would I want that? Would life be better?

What I do know is that it’s pulling me into the past, back to people I used to care about, towards what used to be and not what’s going on now. Right now, in the universe of social media, I’m a follower. Consuming, smirking, sending, sharing and repeating 5 second lines of rot in the back of my head. I’m watching people who figured out how to leverage it. Creating, gathering, monetizing, and building on a scale quicker than ever before seen. I’m sure they ‘enjoy’ their fair share of rot. That the pull of algorithmic pings draws their attention as well.

But if I did change, if I was present - would anyone else be? Would I be alone in the pursuit of experience and regulated attention? Isolating myself despite the core intention of connection?

Or could I make it infectious? Could I make each moment really, actually fun? Interesting? Exciting? Relevant? If only for me, would it still be meaningful?

One thing I have realized is that when my thumb swiped for that pink and white bubble and came back empty handed,

I found something else to do with my time.