Old-Fashioned Augmented Humanity

One of the biggest names in minimalist blogging, Everett Bogue, has caused quite the brouhaha recently due to the change in focus of his writing. His talk of "cyborgs" and "augmented humanity" has turned a lot of people off. I'm not going to offer a critique of his new focus because, frankly, that's none of my business. I actually think it's great for a writer to evolve and grow. It's the only thing that keeps us interesting as creative people. However, I do want to offer a counterpoint to the concept of augmented humanity that he writes about.

The basic premise is that the always-connected nature of our relationship with the internet through software such as Twitter is allowing us to become something more than what we were in the past. I don't dispute that being able to connect with people, instantly, across the globe has some serious ramifications for the way ideas spread and evolve. We live in an exciting time of technological advancement and achievement. However, I have an issue with turning my attention to external factors, primarily technology, when I feel like I am light years away from where I personally want to be.

Let's slow down for a second.

I worry that we are looking to technology to fill in the gaps of our consciousness instead of looking within ourselves for improvement. When I think of augmented humanity, I envision an individual who has so thoroughly mastered the art of being human that the only chance for growth lies in the adoption of technology -- of becoming a "cyborg." Again, I don't doubt that technology is allowing us to become so much more than we have been in the past. But, maybe it's the history teacher inside me that constantly looks to examples of our past and sees remarkable people that accomplished incredible things without Twitter, without cell phones, without the internet, and without becoming a cyborg. I look to those examples as I try to become more than I currently am, not technology.

What might old-fashioned augmented humanity look like?

Where can we look for improvement before we embrace technological augmentation? Surely adoption of brand new technology is not the answer to self-improvement?

MASTERY OF CONSCIOUSNESS

Regaining consciousness means knowing why I act, think, and believe what I do. It's about making decisions and living my life in a way that is aligned with my values and NOT the external decision makers, like advertisement, that barrage me. I need to be able to take multiple information streams and synthesize them with my own self-determined values to decide what I truly believe. Too many people are content to give up their consciousness for the relative ease of letting others live their lives for them.

I firmly and truly believe that the more people strive to live consciously the more we will see the great social ills of our time be solved. A world full of people asking themselves what they truly believe and whether their actions are consistent with those beliefs will result in greater responsibility across the board. This isn't an easy thing to do and it requires a constant and concerted effort. Every aspect of our lives, from what we eat, the work we do, and the relationships that we have need to be addressed in turn as we increase our consciousness. It is a whole body and whole mind effort.

MASTERY OF FOCUS

I see this in myself and my students everyday; our ability to focus on one thing at a time is quickly becoming eradicated. The pull on our attention comes from everywhere and anywhere all at once. The ability to sit quietly and truly focus on one thing is a skill that very few people still have. And yet, the ability to focus for long periods of time is one of the most important factors to creating great work. It isn't good enough to spread your attention as thin as next year's laptop anymore. If you want to rise above the noise then you must be able to eliminate distractions and focus at the expense of staying ever connected.

I look back to history with a twinge of jealousy as I read accounts of how Benjamin Franklin or Thomas Edison worked. They didn't have to face the never ending ping of incoming emails, text messages, or Twitter updates. And yet, nearly do you or I. We can turn off notifications, we can download software that blocks distracting websites and we can train ourselves to focus like the heroes of the past.

BECOMING AUTOTELIC

A person who is autotelic is able to find enjoyment in anything. An autotelic activity is something you do just for the sake of doing it. You aren't looking for external rewards or recognition. Developing an autotelic personality is quite possibly the ultimate end of old-fashioned augmented humanity. Try to imagine how you felt the last time you truly got "lost" in an activity. Time flew by, you felt engaged, challenged and you were operating at the peak of your abilities. You can train yourself to enter this state of flow at will with practice.

Mastering flow, or optimal experience, allows you to enjoy every aspect of your life. From the most mundane to the most exciting, you have complete control over your emotions and attitude. There are powerful examples of prisoners of war or explorers struggling under intense conditions that have been able to train their minds, to master their environment so completely, that they report levels of happiness that some millionaires only dream of. This level of super-humanness is equally as exciting as any purported benefit of technological augmented humanity. It doesn't take Twitter or the internet for you to learn how to enter the flow state in work, at play with your friends or family, or working on some other difficult task.

EMBRACING OUR HUMANITY

The purpose of this article is not to tear down Everett's theories of augmented humanity. In fact, I think using technology to help people become more than they currently are is an admirable goal. Using technology intelligently is an important skill that is only going to gain importance as time marches forward.

However, I'm afraid that we're jumping into the future without having a strong base to work off. Most people have not even scratched the surface of what they're capable of without the use of technology. Mastering our consciousness lets us become the masters of our own lives. Mastering the ability to focus allows us to create work that will change the world. And mastering flow makes us an active part in every aspect of life, regardless of how others perceive it. I'll spend my time focusing on these components of humanity first. Then, if I ever feel like I'm ready, I'll investigate becoming a cyborg.

Like a cheesy sci-fi movie, the cyborg built on the strength of humanity will beat the cyborg tricked out with the latest technological innovations any day.

On Blogging Without The Internet

I've been a semi-professional blogger for awhile now and I haven't had internet access at my home for the last 9 months. Every time I mention this little factoid jaws seem to go slack and eyes get a little hazy. The follow up question is invariably something along the lines of, "Whaa...how?" or "Why would you do that to yourself?" A blogger without access to the internet -- is that really as strange as it sounds?

Here's what I've learned from 9 months of limited internet access and why I decided to get service last week.

1. Blogging is done 98% offline anyway: First and foremost, I'm a writer. The internet just happens to be where I post my finished product. Writing is done most efficiently (for me at least) offline.

2. My willpower was never even brought into the question: When I woke up in the morning I didn't have to exercise any willpower to not check my email or go waste time on Twitter. It wasn't even an option so I didn't have to worry about it. As a side effect, I've noticed my willpower has atrophied a little bit when it comes to regulating my internet access.

3. My limited time online was usually very focused: I got in the habit of making lists of things I needed to do when I had access to the internet. Most of the time I only had an hour or two of access at a time so I had to make sure I got everything done that I had on my lists. This resulted in me using my time pretty effectively most of the time.

4. I was always on the prowl for access: This is the main reason I decided to get internet access in my apartment. I always had my iPod Touch with me and was constantly on the lookout for free wi-fi. Since I never knew when my next chance to access the internet would be, I became obsessed with looking for access. This started to really bother me when I caught my social habits being affected. I began taking my iPod Touch with me anywhere and everywhere. That constant uncertainty was making me a pain to be around, I'm sure.

5. I became Starbuck's bitch: "Tall bold, please." I said this so, so many times over the past few months. Starbucks has free internet (as long as you purchase a drink) so I found myself spending many a hour sipping a delicious coffee and using their wi-fi. I told myself that I was saving money by not paying for access to the internet, but when it comes down to it I was probably only saving $15 a month, tops.

I liked the productivity that not having home access to the internet gave me but I hated always being on the lookout for it as well. When I got my full-time long-term substitute teaching job I decided it was probably time to get the internet in my apartment. I wanted to be able to do research and preparation for my lessons on my own time and without having to drop $1.59 on a drink.

Now that I've re-entered the world of the connected, I'm very cognizant of not falling into bad habits. Just like you can't give a ton of food to a starving person without them throwing up, I'm afraid that my mind is going to throw up when it suddenly has access to the internet almost 24 hours a day after going without for so long.

It'll be an interesting case study in my own discipline and habits.

Have you lived without access to the internet for long periods of time? How did you feel about it? I'd love to hear your story in the comments.

It's Not the Tools, It's the Carpenter

This blog isn't about minimalism.

It never has been. Sure, I bandy the word about but I've never considered myself a "minimalist blogger". I write about living simply and consciously -- in whatever form that takes. Sometimes that is through the tool of minimalism and sometimes it's not. Despite the recent uproar (which I promised myself I wouldn't get involved in -- although, appear to be doing so now) minimalism can't die. Tools can't die. Hammers, screwdrivers and computers are nothing more than what people make them to be. Minimalism is made by the people who practice it -- and they aren't going anywhere soon.

I caution those of use who are lucky enough to make a full or even partial living on the internet to lose perspective of the larger world. Just because everyone you interact with on Twitter claims to live minimally and consciously doesn't mean the idea is mainstream. If you read this blog you're in the minority. If you've ever left a comment, sent me an email, or interacted with me in any way you're part of an even smaller minority. Your reality isn't my reality. My reality isn't yours. We risk running into problems when we project our own perspective on others.

Please don't let one person represent an idea for you. Proclamations are pointless when we are talking about the way we live our lives. Conscious living applies to every aspect of life -- especially when it comes to what you read on this, or any other, blog.

I'm not particularly interested in petty controversies between people who write on the internet. I'm just going to keep writing about how I'm learning to live a simpler and more conscious life. Minimalism will continue to be a tool I use. However, my tools don't define me. Nobody looks at a world-class sculptor and says, "That's the guy who uses that really awesome chisel! Check out how sweet his chisel is!" A carpenter is not asked to wax poetic about his hammers and his saws after a house has been built.

I'm not interested in being defined by my tools either; I'm building something that transcends what I've used to build it.

Out of Sight Minimalism

Minimalism usually evokes images of spartan living spaces, airy closets, and few personal possessions. In essence, minimal living is usually tied to physical items, or the lack thereof. That's an important aspect of minimalism, but it's not the end-all-be-all of what it means to live minimally. In fact, I don't think it's even the most important part. Minimalism can, and should, be applied to the unseen components of life, too.

COMMITMENTS

It doesn't matter how tranquil and serene your living environment is if you spend your life rushing from one commitment to another. I think it's interesting how many people who are interested in living a minimal life are also the type of person who is very driven and dedicated to personal development. Sometimes, the two values clash with each other. In the quest of self improvement it can be tempting to take on too much at a time. Start restricting yourself to only the commitments that speak most directly to your values. What you'll sacrifice in breadth of activities you'll easily make up for by becoming more deeply involved with your remaining responsibilities. The deeper you get into your commitments, the greater chance you have for impact, too.

SOMEDAY/MAYBE LISTS

A component of David Allen's Getting Things Done system (a keystone for organizing my life) is the idea of having a Someday/Maybe list. This is the list where everything that you think you might like to do at some point, but can't right now, lives. When these lists are up to date and truly reflect your passions and desires, it can be exhilarating to look at.

However, the longer something sits on this list and you don't take action on it, the more likely it is to weigh you down. I recently took a look at my someday/maybe list and had well over 50 things on it. Some of them had been on there for so long I couldn't even remember when I wanted to do it. I certainly didn't want to now. After I purged those lists and was left with the few things I knew I still wanted to do, I felt better. Unfulfilled commitments, even to yourself, can become draining. You have control over that, so don't let it happen.

PERSONAL WISH LISTS

I keep a simple list in my Evernote account of things that I want. It also serves double duty as a 30 day waiting list for significant purchases. It's easy to have a handy list to give someone who asks about birthday or Christmas presents and it keeps me from buying unnecessary things on impulse. Over time, though, the list becomes littered with 30-day-wait-items that failed to pass the test and items I no longer yearn for. Having a huge list of things that I wanted didn't feel very minimalist, so after I cleaned it up and purged the majority of it, I felt like I was closer to living my value of mindful consumption.

DIGITAL DETRITUS

How many gigs of music do you have on your computer that you never listen to? I used to have a massive iTunes library that routinely pissed me off. I couldn't listen to the entire library on shuffle because I had to keep skipping songs I didn't like. What the hell is the point of that? With Pandora and other streaming radio, keeping actual music files on my computer is almost redundant. I know this isn't true for everyone, but it might be worth looking at how much you're actually storing on your computer. Almost everything can be accessed on the cloud now. That means you don't have to store it plus you can access your data from anywhere. What about crappy photos that are mixed in with your good ones? Old work reports you'll never need again? That middle school paper you wrote 11 years ago? Why keep digital detritus around when you wouldn't dream of keeping a physical folder of old algebra homework in your minimal office?

An outwardly minimal life marked by unseen clutter is minimal in nothing but name. Minimizing the visual and concrete is only the first step that allows the space to minimize the more abstract components of life. Out of sight minimalism is just as important, if not more so, than visual minimalism.

Where are your out of sight trouble spots?

Living Beyond Books

I've considered myself a minimalist for well over two years. Before, I was a hoarder. A well organized hoarder, but a hoarder nonetheless. I loved to collect things. When I was younger my chosen poison was hockey trading cards. In fact, one of my favorite past times was to take my entire collection and spend the day reorganizing it. One day it would be by team, another day would be by name, and if I was feeling particularly motivated, I'd organized my massive collection by an obscure statistical category.

As I got older, I began collecting books. I was interested in anything that came in a series. Stephen King's Dark Tower series? Check. Lord of the Rings? Check. The entire Shannara series? Check. Any time I didn't have a complete series I felt like part of myself was incomplete. I dreamed of having a library that would fill entire rooms. But even that fantasy wasn't enough to assuage the emotional stress I felt about having as complete a collection as possible. Obviously, I could never own or read every book and for some reason that bothered me at a subconscious level.

Are you catching the crazy here?

Just in case it slipped by you, let me reiterate.

I was annoyed by the fact that I could never read and own every single book in existence.

Coming to accept that realization was the beginning of my minimalist journey. Since I couldn't have it all, I decided to see how little I could have instead. To my surprise, I discovered that it wasn't owning books that I loved after all. It was reading books that I enjoyed. Then, I realized that I wasn't even necessarily in love with the old fashioned construct of a book -- I just wanted to read.

I've lived quite minimally for awhile now. Quite minimally, that is, except for the two bookcases full of books. I always rationalized that an educated person such as myself needed an apartment full of books as proof of that education. I've also been holding onto various books that I thought would fill my classroom the day I became a full-time social studies teacher. Besides the narcissism inherent in keeping books as social proof of my own intelligence those books I was saving for my classroom were a constant reminder that I am not a full-time teacher. At first, that bothered me. Now, I'm happy that my plans have changed. Why keep the books, then?

This weekend I took the big step of giving away 95% of my remaining book collection. I'm giving them to the local library and a former high school teacher of mine. I'll let the library store, organize and care for them for me. I'll let somebody who is in the classroom already utilize the books that have been sitting on my shelves doing nothing but making me look cultured.

I love reading, not owning books. I love learning, not purchasing books.

I'm learning that minimalism is about focusing on the verbs in life: doing, being, reading, learning, growing; and a lot less on the nouns: books, stuff, collections, and clutter.

All you minimalists out there, where are the last remnants of your former self hiding? I was hiding in my books. What about you? Shoes? Photos? Computer parts? What would it feel like to finally let that go?

Why I'm Deleting My Facebook Account

I decided to start the New Year with a metaphorical bang. I've neglected to share the details of my life over the past couple months and I think it has made my writing quite dry. I know you aren't here to read about the intimate details of my life, but let's face it, anybody can write "how to" posts about living simpler. The interest lies when people add their own twists to run-of-the-mill information and when they share how it is affecting their life.

I will be posting this on Facebook, and then deleting (or locking down) my account.

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I'M DELETING MY FACEBOOK ACCOUNT BECAUSE I AM WEAK.

I allowed it to trick me into thinking 1,000 Facebook friendships are suitable replacements for 10 real relationships. I've been lulled into the false sense of security that tells me because I can instantly communicate with all the people in my life, I don't need to right now. Not talking to you right now, even though I could, has turned into not talking to you for 6 months. And then a year. And then two years.

Facebook has become much less about communicating meaningfully with people and much more about knowing what everyone is doing. And it's not you, it's me. I like scrolling through my updates and seeing what you did yesterday, how your finals are going, or whether it's snowing where you are. I don't know why I do this, but I've come to terms with the fact that none of this matters. What you're actually doing, thinking, feeling, and fearing right now is not being portrayed by the lyrics in your status update.

I care about you as a person and for me, Facebook is becoming extremely adept at removing your humanity. Instead, you are just another line of information in an endlessly updating stream flowing in front of my eyes as cheap entertainment. I don't want that and you don't want that.

This isn't about you, it's about my own inability to filter the information that comes into my life. I face too much of it on a day to day basis and it dilutes and distracts me from the things that really matter. Deleting my Facebook account is only the first step in a larger movement toward becoming more conscious of how I spend my time and attention.

It's about being okay with less. With less information and less distraction. About eliminating the low-impact streams of information in favor of making time for what truly matters.

No, I won't be checking your status or updating my own anymore, but I will be calling you and asking if you want to grab a coffee sometime soon. I won't "like" that funny video you posted on somebody's wall but I will be writing you an email or a letter. I won't be able to play Farmville with you, but I will want to get together and play some video games sometime. All I know is that I need more face to face, and less text to text, time with the important people in my life.

I've got a list of people that aren't going to really be affected by whether I have a Facebook account. We're still going to talk and see each other and the world will continue to spin.

I have another list of people that I'm going to make a more conscious effort to contact more often. These are the people who I need to make a concerted effort to make a larger part of my life. If I'm a part of that second list for you, I'd love if you'd send me an email or give me a call sometime. If you don't know me particularly well but think that you'd like to, please, please, please contact me via email, Skype, Twitter, or phone.

Our technological world is becoming more and more impersonal. This is my small act of defiance, of rebellion, toward a world of more personal connections. I see the irony that a service meant to draw people closer together has not done that for me and yet, I'm okay with it.

In fact, I feel better already.

Is Facebook replacing heartfelt and personal relationships for you?