(Labor Day 2010)
This morning I took the dog out for a walk and noticed that a number of the small businesses along upper Main street are closed on Labor Day. Good for them. Although a few would-be customers might be disappointed, I find it nice to think that the employees get to spend the day off with their families.
Until recently, this kind of thinking was definitely an outside-the-lines zone in mainstream U.S. culture. We were supposed to believe that a 24/7/365 Business as Usual policy is desirable. It ostensibly creates much-needed jobs, boosts the economy and makes life more convenient for all of us.
But a funny thing happened to some of us when we tried to live this way. As I compare notes with fellow Boomers, we've noticed several patterns that emerged alongside convenience culture.
For one thing, nonessential tasks became "urgent" simply because we had the means to accomplish them immediately; the world wouldn't end if we didn't run out and get more peanut butter that night, but since stores were open round the clock, we felt like we should go out.
A side effect of this constant availability has been that many of us don't plan well. My mom and dad raised six kids, yet I don't remember either of them running to the store every single day. Maybe since businesses had shorter hours 30-40 years ago, people developed better time management skills than we do now.
Another effect of 24/7 was that the quality of our relationships deteriorated. A friend recently noted that with every new "convenience" she seems to add another item to her to-do list, and this has given her less time to simply be with family and friends.
Electronic conveniences even provide a way to "chat" 24/7. I've noticed that for myself, email and Facebook have provided convenient ways to stay in basic touch with people and get work done. However, checking both sometimes feels like just another task on an overloaded plate - plus, coming from enthusiasts, there is sometimes an expectation that I'll answer every message within the hour. None of these interactions take the place of a real live F2F visit; however, having 700 "friends" on Facebook can lead us to think that we're part of a community.
Finally, we noticed that we always felt tired. Getting up in the morning was becoming harder. Could it be that our constant doing was wearing us out?
Five years ago I decided to experiment with having a personal sabbath day. The idea of a day of rest isn't limited to people who belong to an organized religion - anyone can create one. Each of us can decide what "rest" means. For example, I don't go grocery shopping, fill up the tank or check email on days of rest, because those tasks feel like work. However, I'll weed the garden if I want, or cook a good meal. Every so often, my household has an electronics-free day - no email, social networks, phone or TV. We talk to each other instead.
What would you do (or not do) on your day of rest?
No comments:
Post a Comment