really virtual and virtually real
on life with screens
Last weekend I travelled down to York to meet up with a coaching client – our first time meeting in person. She lives down near London while I'm in Scotland, and our contact until now has been entirely online. What a joy it was to be with each other, away from screens and in real life.
I've also got a friend in New York who I've never (yet) met in person. We first crossed paths in an online course, where our group comments resonated with one another. I suggested a zoom call to talk at length, and we never looked back. Now we zoom chat once a month, and care for and support each other through all the developments that life throws our way.
Then there's this fascinating bond among the editorial team of Unpsychology. Steve and I have been in each others lives now for years, but have only met in person three brief times, while I've not (yet) met Lesley or Patrick in person – something I hope will change. We meet regularly online to discuss the work of the magazine and have created a virtual community among ourselves. Check-ins are rich and personal, and I feel a real sense of friendship and support between us.
I'm musing about these online and in-person connections because a friend of mine was recently decrying the existence of screens, as an addictive source of disconnection. I do totally get her point. Screens have severe limitations and can be extremely disturbing.
I have long been a critic of television, and count Four Arguments for the Elimination of Television by Jerry Mander as a modern classic. (Although I'm a hypocrite: I do occasionally watch films or binge series on my laptop, and I count some of these productions as cultural gems, shining amongst the dirt of so much tv trash.)
I know that passive observation of television is a different experience than personal interaction via the internet. But they both involve screens – the flat, glowing glass within its metal or plastic casing. And they both detract from real life: “In the living creature, there is something which can be experienced only in person, no matter how vivid the attempt at visual reproduction... When you reproduce any image of anything that formerly had aura (or life), the effect is to dislocate the image from the aura, leaving only the image.” (Mander)
I wholeheartedly agree: the experience of being with someone in person is far, far more precious than the interactions of a text message or an email or a zoom call. And yet virtual communication has value too; it allows connection over great distances. So how does one reconcile these contradictions?
I don't know the answer for you, I only know the answer for me, at this point in time. In my own understanding, there is room for both the virtual and the real, here in this complex world in which I live. There is room in my life for my people, whether they be here with me in the flesh, or online via the ether. There is also a need for moderation, a need to listen closely to my instinct and to respect my thresholds of screen-tolerance.
Unpsychology has grown its community through the wonders of digital technology, and you're reading this blogpost now as a result. To follow a tangent: you can now experience Unpsychology both virtually and in real life. We offer the option to purchase a print copy of the magazine, to hold it in ones hands and feel its solidity, to see the colours and shapes on the paper page rather than on a screen. But one may still also simply download the free pdf and experience its beautiful contents onscreen.
The virtual and the real coexist, whatever we may feel about that. Like all things Unpsychology, we invite you to explore the paradox, to hold the complexities and consider the angles – rather than to ground your heels down in an intractible position of for or against. Our world holds infinitely lovely connections and simultaneously challenging disconnections, and we do well to open ourselves to these curiosities with grace and goodwill.
You can get your FREE digital copy of the latest Unpsychology Magazine (issue 9.1, Imaginings) from HERE; and purchase a print copy (highly recommended!), together with the previous Warm Data Anthology issue 8, from our online bookshop HERE. Previous editions of the magazine are FREE PDFs and you can download them from HERE.
I meet weekly with 2 groups online, one for over 2 years now and one that just had it's one year anniversary. I had never met any of the people in person before. I had the amazing and wonderful opportunity to meet a few people from the 2 year group around a year ago and we immediately fell into an amazing connection born from the year of our online connection. I love in the flesh communion and yearn for more of it in my life as I'm isolated from the kind of people in those groups - people who dig deep and share deeply. That said, I am astounded by the deep love and support and resonance I experience in my zoom meetings each week. The people and the field we create together keeps me grounded and sane. It's one of the silver linings of the Covid era that I cherish on a regular basis. So many people, ideas, organizations, teachings, etc. were so far away before the necessity of zoom, and now they are available in my home. Of all those things I value the relationships with people the most and feel immense gratitude to the technology that brings them to me.
Yes yes ...in many ways we have technologies that have enhanced our lives as well as potentially distracting us from the everyday experience of life. And the same with the previous lives of our ancestors - some aspects of their connection to the natural world it would be wonderful to preserve and yet other aspects are hideous and every nuance between. We are creating a mosaic of our lives from all those broken up pieces - what looks good or feels good there, maybe is ugly here...(my own ideas of ugly) We are standing on the shoulders of all that has come before - the ultimate decluttering potential ...maybe a rearrangement of most of the pieces rather than a major discard to the refuse station - a composting of the more fetid aspects to feed that which hasn't yet emerged. Thank you for your perspective ... it enlargens mine