Thou Shall Not "Kill"

Recently, I haven't spent quite as much time on my tech devices as usual. As I watched the election counts move toward a decisive result, I sat down to process my thoughts at my blog. Then, the next day, I reviewed the world on social media. Usually one to wade fairly deep into the social commentaries to appreciate many sides of an issue, I started to get upset amid the unique but tired climate of this election's fallout. I was especially bothered by one comment that vilified voters whose consciences and voting decisions are formed by religion, and decided to take an indefinite Facebook fast, checking notifications and messages but not consuming my feed. I haven't come off my break yet, and I'm not sure when I will.

Then, this past week, enjoying Thanksgiving festivities with family, I spent most of my days in the house of some elderly relatives who don't have an internet connection, let alone WiFi, in their home. Aside from occasional browses through my Twitter feed using cellular data, I was hardly online. Instead, for better or worse, we were all simply together - from food prep to cleanup to down time - mostly detached from our devices. Now back from the holiday and seated on my couch in the warm bubble of my modem and WiFi router, I want to articulate a realization I've found: our technology must not become a time-killer.

You know how iPhones let us organize apps into groups, dragging several into the same little square to categorize them and give them a group name? I have a friend who has a set labeled "Wasting Time." While I know the label doesn't exactly match the reality, the kernel of truth there is telling - the way people consume their threads on Reddit, go down YouTube or Wikipedia black holes as one search leads to another, or allow Netflix's continuous viewing feature to keep them sucked in - our use of our technology makes us deeply susceptible to killing time, which we should only do in particular situations.

Killing time should be limited to those moments when we have indefinite down times, times that aren't meant for anything in particular, that could end in a moment or drag on for a while, times when we are captive to a particular constraining activity. I think of waiting rooms at doctors' and dentists' offices; I think of being parked at the curb, waiting to pickup a friend or family member; I think of sitting on an airplane, with nowhere to go while you travel to your destination; I think of standing on the platform waiting for the train or at the signpost waiting for your bus; I think of waiting for a table at a restaurant. These are the moments when you have little else to do, when killing time helps move us from what we were doing to what we're about to do. Even then, these times could be useful for different things, but I find it thoroughly understandable to resort to killing time.

However, time-killing cannot become our norm. We need to think about what a reasonable amount of time-killing might be and limit ourselves to it. Part of that is discerning what activities are empty-headed "time-killers" and which are enriching and engaging. I don't think it's about depriving ourselves of fun and leisure but about distinguishing the mindless from the mindful.

I think a key question to start from when evaluating an activity, an app, a show, a routine is Does this help me grow in some specific way? and to answer the question with authentic discernment - no kidding yourself about what's what. For some, Wikipedia black holes may be a way of procrastinating, of delaying spending time on something more substantial; for others, it may be a way of satisfying curiosity, of studying a new concept, or expanding one's knowledge. For some, watching sports may be a way to kick back and enjoy unbridled competition; for others, it's a way to be analytical, observant, and critical. For some, watching a TV series may be a mindless way to edify one's desire for drama, intrigue, and scandal; for others, it becomes an artistic review to study methods and techniques or digest literary implications.

And any of those could become a blend of the two.

Personally, I find myself mostly mixing the two, and veering away from that which is purely time-killing to keep it as a minority stake-holder of my time and attention. I read on Twitter and Facebook mainly to find and consume news, commentary, and other content that reflects the interests of friends and those who I follow as well as to inform me about important concerns in politics, news, sports, religion, and society. I watch sports partially for the pride of being a Chicagoan and loving athletics and team competition as well as to analyze the plays, the techniques, and the coaching strategies that comprise each game. I watch TV shows because of the mindlessness of kicking back and being a consumer as well as criticizing plot and characters, production, and acting.

For me, I am happiest and most engaged when I have a healthy mix of leisure and engagement. And then I protect myself from time-killing and technological obsession with extra guards: I have no red numbers on my phone apps; I get no notifications from any apps except phone calls, voicemails, and text messages; I don't watch shows with continuous viewing enabled; I only keep one game on my phone (7 Little Words).

And then, from time-to-time, I find ways to lighten my lean on social media. Recently, the election banter has prompted me to take a break from my Facebook feed. A few months ago, the allure of a good book led me to eschew my pre-bedtime Facebook and Twitter scrolling in favor of a hardbound book and a few minutes with its rapidly-turning pages. After my first year of full-time work, I found my morning momentum at the desk strengthened when I saved all leisure reading (news, sports, social media, etc.) for a big lump sum break at lunchtime rather than smaller breaks throughout the day.

The larger idea is that I want to try with steady and dynamic effort to avoid killing time. I know too well the value of being present in the moment. My Kairos retreats as a high school student and leader first showed me the profound love present when you live in the moment. My work as a pastoral minister has underlined the magnitude of an earnest ministry of presence. My relationships throughout life have taught me the power of attention. We must strive to always be good stewards of our technology, maintaining dominion over it so that it doesn't come to rule us.

I'll close with one story. For two years, I worked a job that involved a lengthy commute home through rush-hour traffic in Chicago. After a few months, I realized the drive home with its length, with the congested traffic, with the frustrating actions of other drivers, was driving me crazy. I was impatient, tired, and at wit's end when I got home. Sports-talk radio, long my favorite drive-time companion, wasn't the best way to spend that time. I went online, bought a headset/microphone for my phone, and resolved to use the commute to catch up with friends. It certainly wasn't something I could plan for every day, but about once a week, I connected with a friend and scheduled a call. Then, for the 45 or 60 or 75 or more minutes of the ride home, rather than subject myself solely to the rigmarole of the drive, I had a companion and an opportunity to sustain a relationship and catch up with a friend. The change was wonderfully positive. I was happier, calmer, and much more delighted upon making it home. No longer was I killing time; now, that time was alive.