Skip to main content

Proof of Life on Earth


It's reported that some indigenous cultures believe that photographs steal a bit of our soul, that Aboriginals and other island cultures believe that each image takes something of our essence from us. And in a way they're absolutely right. Each instance in which we try to 'capture a moment' we lose understanding that its slipping past us, we'll never get it back, that we've failed to attend to it with the integrity of full sensory awareness.


Such an observation, of course, runs counter to our beliefs, for it seems that we have become as interested in the representation of life as the actual experience of it. From arriving at scenic vistas to the most mundane meal, from nights on the town to resting in our most private moments, the obligation is to whip out a smart phone, take a snapshot and publish the images soon after as a kind of documentation that it really happened, and we really exist, that our lives are so very full. And perhaps there's even an underlying anxiety that none of life counts unless there a two dimensional representation of it stored on the cloud for all our friends to click "like."

Is it grouchy to observe that this seemingly harmless ritual is subtly degrading our attention to lived experience? Do we understand that experiences cannot be captured, for beyond the hastily taken photo, a vast array of experience is forever lost: the backgrounds sounds, sensations of contact with the ground, moods and feelings, aromas, the core impressions creating the richness of being in the moment.
Are we really present for life after we've grabbed the shot, or knowing that we 'have a good shot' give us permission to zone out or move on? Some may argue that our photos are taken swiftly, and that much of time we're not taking them, but I wonder if the easiness of creating and sharing images creates an underlying perceptual laziness, a sense that we don't have to attend to moments with the same effort and care.

I like a good photo as much as the next person (I suppose, as I have no idea what the next person feels), and though I've seen enough for one lifetime already, I don't begrudge the endless parade of images on social media. I'm simply noting what we can lose each time we say cheese. So once we've captured the image, let's return to what's truly meaningful, making the deep contact with others and feeling the real, concrete feelings of aliveness, with an understanding that our pristine moments are slipping past. Let's give in completely to the charge, the euphoria, the very zing of being here.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

fear

There are times in life when intrusive, fear based thoughts latch hold of us, filling the mind with swarming, buzzing thoughts, distracting us during interactions with others, muting the sensory richness of each moment—the sounds, body sens ations, aromas, feelings and on. Such dire visitors—generally based on past resentments or speculative fears—can easily bait and hook us, threatening us with annihilation, repeating constantly; given how constant the messages can be, releasing such thoughts can feel like ignoring ‘the world is going to end’ new flashes on CNN or city sirens announcing impending hurricanes. The mind can really play tricks that make it all to easy to abandon the present, which is, of course, the only place of true safety and utility. When we find the mind latching onto these narratives, images or moods, and we can’t reassure, reason with or let go, sometimes the only solution is to give up the battle and actually write down what our fears are trying to tell us. If

Imagination And Creativity as Spiritual Practice

It’s worth noting how few of childhoods’ freewheeling exercises—the entertainments that were once synonymous with youthful delight—journey through to adult life. To a great degree, we’ve moved, en masse, toward consuming entertainment via television, video games and social media rather than creating our entertainment: drawing, making pottery, dancing, singing, and other inventive endeavors. Those same kindergartners who sing, draw, dance, and engage in all kinds of play, will, in only a few years’ time, be streaming their content via iPad screens, which requires less imagination and effort.  Consider the mind’s two dominant cognitive networks: the first is the default mode network (DMN), a mental state wherein we can visualize possibilities or solve problems, but where we often wind up speculating about unknowable future outcomes or ruminating about interpersonal conflicts. DMN is largely activated by subregions associated with inductive reasoning centers of the brain (the d

5 ways to resist obsessive thoughts (Vitakkasanthana)

The mind can be thought of as a committee Our thoughts are present by many "voices," some skillful and unskillful W there are some skillful voices in there, focusing on useful ideas, there are also the many voices in the "committee" that cause us suffering by advancing and encouraging useless, stress inducing ideas, plans, worries. Some examples of unskillful, stress producing obsessions —are dedictated to figuring out the worst possible outcomes (fear) of any situation —fixate on unknowable future events, i.e. what will we experience later in life? —try to figure out what other people are thinking about us —compare ourselves with others, especially in material concerns in general, the buddha broke these down the thoughts of craving, aversion and delusion. How unskillful internal voices persuade us some of these committee members try to get their way by —most work by repeating the same thought over and over —some split into thousands of variations that seem differe