“Is she taking her own senior portraits?” My husband asked. I looked behind him and noticed the young girl he was speaking of then. We were at a public park, and there by the gazebo a young lady posed in front of an ornate bush taking selfies. I watched as she tried different positions of her long hair, varying smiles and expressions, and multiple locations throughout the park. Her hand outstretched, phone camera pointed down, beaming beautifully as she clicked away for an audience of her choosing.
As I looked away I realized this was the norm of today’s society, and if I was being completely honest, I was surprised I had yet to take of selfie in the park myself. A selfie that I would take several times to capture the most flattering shot, edit on Instagram for the best overall filter effect, and then post to social media sites, in a matter of less than five minutes. I had gotten that good. Although pictures of my children were my favorite to post.
It was true that right when we arrived to the park I had sat cross-legged on the grass and opened my Facebook. I didn’t have a status to post, but just needed to check-in. Certainly didn’t want to miss anything.
After that, as my children ran around with my husband I snapped photos with my smart phone. It was almost second nature to document the fun outing as it happened, and I hadn’t even noticed I was only participating through the camera view of my iPhone.
This also was just the way things were now. I could look around the playground and see the other moms snapping pictures of their children playing. In between texting or checking email.
It wasn’t a thing to walk into the break room in the morning before my shift and be greeted by all my co-workers’ heads bowed over their phones, everyone getting in a few good reads off Facebook or Tumbler before the work day began. It’s just the way it was, and our interaction with one another might be, “Hey, check out this video,” or tagging each other in something interesting.
As I got up from the grass I slipped my phone into my pocket and began to play chase with my daughter. I ran around in circles trying to tag her, and I wondered if we had gone too far. I wondered if we were allowing technology to separate us from simply enjoying the little things like running barefoot in soft, green grass. Without telling everyone in cyberspace you were doing so. Were we cyber-zombies after all?
Don’t get me wrong. I love my Facebook. A lot, and I might be so bold to admit that maybe I love it too much. I mean, it had its benefits for sure. I enjoyed the ability to reconnect with old friends, and even make new ones. It was a great place to share news, and hear about what was going on when my television was stuck on Nickjr instead of CNN or Fox News. It was a great prayer network, and a wonderful tool for locating local services or asking general questions when Google just wouldn’t do.
But what about when it wasn’t so great? Were there times I scrolled through social media when I should be socializing with others in person? What about the kids? Surely they never felt like they played a second to my smart phone. I wondered though. When they looked up from learning something new was I watching or had I missed it?
I thought overall technology was great. My favorite thing about the internet remained being able to look up an actor on IMDB. What had he been in before? No need to think about it too long. Just Google it.
I carried a Nursing Drug Handbook in my pocket thanks to free apps. I used to buy the actual book for $40 and then would need a new addition the next year. It was great now! I could order prescriptions in a snap and get immediate directions to anywhere. I could contact someone in a moments notice, and not even have to talk to them to do it. Introverts adore the invention of texting.
It was all good stuff, but some of it wasn’t. When I couldn’t leave the house without my phone, and had even been known to turn around miles from home to go back and retrieve it, I wondered if it was consuming me. When I held my nursing baby and she kicked purposefully at the phone in my hand in attempts to distract me from its screen, I wondered if I was letting technology make me a Zombie Mom. I pictured myself bent over my screen, eyes glazed over, but rather than craving human brains for consumption I was devouring “likes” of the latest pic I posted.
As we got ready to leave the park I helped my daughter put on her shoes. I looked down at her sitting on the step and my breath caught. Her hair was pasted to her forehead, a smear of dirt on her cheek. She was perfect, and I had to capture it. I pulled my phone from my pocket and snapped a quick shot.
Later that night as I looked back at the photo I was grateful for the technology. I was happy I had captured the beauty of that moment forever, but then I put my phone away.
I knew that the beauty I saw in that picture was now. That girl was present at that exact moment, and one day all I would have to remember of that time was a picture, but until then I would hold her. I wouldn’t let technology overtake me and sever me from enjoying now in favor of recording and sharing it.
It’s a great balancing act, like so many good things that can be manipulated into something bad. Anything in excess can overtake you, and as I edited my latest selfie on Instagram I realized I’m a work in progress. Are you?