Bikes, Bytes, and Balance: A Search for Meaning in a Hyperconnected World
Bikes, Bytes, and Balance: A Search for Meaning in a Hyperconnected World
There once was a time, in my lifetime, when the world was less pixelated, and life seemed simpler.
You know, the “good ol' days” that old curmudgeons go on about. When the grass was greener, the sky bluer, and we used to talk to each other. We'd meet up at the mall, exchange pleasantries, and shoot the breeze.
Ok, that’s a lie.
I was too awkward and pop-punk to “exchange pleasantries,” and I don’t have the foggiest idea what someone would “shoot” at the breeze. It's as if a Buddhist koan has leaked its contradictions into American colloquialisms to taunt us with nonsense or something.
But I digress.
I’m not really one for rosy retrospections.
In my mind, the universe has been, and always will be, a heavenly hellscape of cosmic indifference, a vast, incomprehensible void dappled with spectacular miracles.
We humans are just living in it.
But, I can't help but wonder at the significance of our lives and our priorities, from my limited perspective.
As a millennial born in the late 80s, I experienced a mix of the warm embrace of analog and the rush of the dawning digital age.
Like others in my generation, I carry a distinct blend of nostalgia for simpler times and an insatiable hunger for innovation.
Growing up in rural Colorado in the 90s, I bounced between bikes and bytes, skateboards and keyboards, living a life balanced squarely between the natural world and the ever-evolving landscape of technology.
I spent a lot of time playing on the farm, where I got head-butted by sheep, impaled my feet with nails, and jumped off tall stacks of hay bales into loose piles of hay. When I wasn't joyfully injuring myself outside, I played Nintendo 64, raised Tamagotchis, and performed exorcisms on Furbies.
We millennials were the generation that came of age during the rise of the internet, smartphones, and social media, witnessing the 9/11 terrorist attacks and starting our careers (if you could call them that) amid the 2008 financial crisis.
With the dawn of the internet and its relentless march forward, our lives have been irrevocably altered, for better and worse. It has been a mixed blessing; something like the fanny pack, bringing hands-free convenience to the world while simultaneously thumbing its nose to fashionable sensibility.
My pre-teen years were a time of transition when friendships were forged over both paper notes and AOL Instant Messenger (AIM). We exchanged music on Napster and Kazaa, and printed out directions from MapQuest, so long as no one was using the phone at the time (keep up, young people1).
In those days, Netflix was only a whisper in Blockbuster's ear, and "Google it" became the answer to all our questions.
Today, our lives have since become a technological tapestry of symbols and digital connections, merging and diverging with reality.
Social media has reshaped our understanding of self-worth and infiltrated our lives. Our successes, appearances, and experiences are always visible and open to judgment.
Similarly, work and personal life have melded together like oil and water, shaken vigorously in a metaphorical bottle of corporate exploitation.
Unsurprisingly, a demand for a healthy work-life balance is a defining characteristic of the millennial generation.
Our generation has gained a reputation as the wellness-championing, latte-sipping, selfie-taking, experience-chasing, eco-conscious, side-hustling, industry-killing, pioneers of the digital domain.
And, despite all this notoriety, for many of us, it has felt like we are passengers in the world we were born into, rather than being in control of shaping it.
It’s like the world dropped its progress on us like a ton of (Nokia) bricks, and our lives have been an endless chain of technological adoption.
I suspect every generation feels some sort of inherited helplessness to some degree or another.
As I type this on my laptop, AI tools correct my grammar (which I tend to ignore), Siri reminds me to text someone back (which I'll likely forget), Netflix streams (for background noise, of course), the doorbell detects movement (probably just a tree in the wind), and message apps chime for attention (come on, I’m trying to write something here!).
Like many others today, I’m well beyond the point of notification fatigue and have taken active measures to log out, disconnect, and go visit nature.
In light of all this, I can't help but wonder:
Has technology brought us closer, or has it pulled us farther apart?
It's a question that's been on my mind a lot lately, as I grapple with the dizzying pace of technological change and the ever-shifting boundaries between the human and the artificial.
As we approach a future dominated by AI, which may be the most significant event of our lives (and that’s saying something), it's worth reflecting on what we have gained — and lost — along the way.
Undoubtedly, technology has done incredible things for our social lives, making it possible for us to connect with people across the globe in milliseconds. We can now maintain relationships with friends and family, and spark new connections, no matter the distance, or pandemic, blocking the way.
Social media platforms have facilitated the creation of online communities where people can share interests and experiences in ways that were unimaginable just a few decades ago.
Geography is no longer our master, and gone are the days of toiling in obscurity over your life's most peculiar passions, wondering whether there are other people like you. Whether you're into competitive duck herding or Quidditch for muggles, there's a community somewhere.
Unfortunately, our reliance on technology has also come at a cost.
We are often tied to devices, scrolling endlessly through social media, and feeling overwhelmed by the flood of digital information, a state known as information overload.
This convenience of digital connections has led to a decrease in the quality of our face-to-face interactions. We've all been in a room full of people engrossed in their screens, "phubbing" (phone + snubbing) each other, ignoring the humans around them.
But, as it says in Ecclesiastes, "What has been will be again, and what has been done will be done again; there is nothing new under the sun.”
Throughout history, humans have invented a veritable panoply of addictive creations that have caused people to panic and claim that the latest thing will end us all.
From books and telephones to comic books, radio, television, video games, the internet, smartphones, and the incoming AI revolution, every significant distraction or advancement has had its naysayers and doomsayers wailing in the wings.
So far, we’ve been wrong about all that.
New things.
Same story.
No apocalypse yet.
If anything, the biggest concern for today is the rate at which these significant advancements occur.
Centuries ago, such significant leaps may have happened once in a generation, and at today’s rate, it feels like we’ll need to invent time machines just to keep up.
The key lies in finding balance.
We must consciously make room for both connection and solitude, productivity and relaxation, digital engagement and offline experiences.
We must ask ourselves whether we're losing the ability to appreciate life's simple pleasures, and make efforts to find balance in every moment.
Are we missing the beauty of a sunset because we're too busy capturing it for TikTok?
Are we ignoring the people near us because we're too busy maintaining our online personas?
Have we become so focused on using AI to create things faster that we've forgotten the pleasure of making things ourselves?
When in doubt, a good start to finding balance is to consider doing the following:
Set boundaries and breaks: Establish specific times and time limits for using digital devices and stick to them.
Practice digital detox: Schedule regular digital detox periods, such as a day without devices.
Get physical: A short walk or a marathon, doesn’t matter, exercise regularly, especially outside.
Cultivate offline hobbies: Pursue non-digital hobbies like reading, painting, or playing musical instruments.
Stay connected in person: Make time for in-person interactions.
Practice mindfulness: Use mindfulness techniques like meditation, deep breathing, and yoga to manage stress and improve focus every day.
Monitor your mental health: Take care of your emotional well-being and seek professional help for anxiety, depression, or other mental health issues.
Customize notifications: Limit notifications on your devices and prioritize only the most important ones.
This precarious struggle for balance is only about to become more unpredictable with the recent advancements in generative AI. Experts have theorized everything from utopia to the total annihilation of humanity. Some say it’s just a new way to waste time.
When even the experts can’t agree, there is not much use in worrying for those of us who have little influence or knowledge on the subject.
Only time will tell.
In the meantime, we can manage our own consumption and how we welcome technology into our individual lives.
Technology is a beautifully double-edged connector that can bring satisfaction and fulfillment that isn’t possible in the non-digital world.
It saves lives, saves time, and entertains us.
Finding a balance between embracing the benefits of technology and preserving the human connections that make life meaningful is a challenge.
But it's a challenge worth taking on.
Have you come this far and enjoyed what you read?
If so, please consider sharing this post and subscribing!
It would mean the world to me if you did!
In the era of dial-up internet, the internet connection used the same telephone line as voice calls. This meant that while someone was using the internet, the line was occupied and couldn't be used for incoming or outgoing phone calls simultaneously.