Lost in Convenience

Once upon a time a family would have Movie Night.

Parents would spend 15 minutes corralling their children into a car only to drive 20 minutes to a Blockbuster.

In the Blockbuster they would go through aisles hunting for the couple movies they may take home that night. Some movies they would pick up based on the cover art. Others they would pick up based on a conversation they would have with a likely disinterested employee. Maybe prior to arriving they had read some good things about a movie in TV Guide magazine and were on the hunt for something specific. Often times the movie of the night was relegated to whatever jumped out to a kid who plucked it off the shelf.

Many families had this ritual. Maybe they would see a coworker or someone from church and have to catch up real quick. Maybe the kids would recognize someone from school and the parents would get to meet each other for the first time.

Pizza Hut was next door to the Blockbuster. In an act of efficiency, one parent has already walked over there and placed an order. By the time they had completed their movie rental experience the pizza was done and ready for pickup.

Finally they would get home. It was time to play the movie! Pop in the VHS, hit play, and pop! The screen would cut to black and the movie didn't play. Turns out someone had forgotten to be kind and rewind. Now the family stares at the black screen, waiting an excruciating 3 minutes for the tape to finally rewind.

This isn't another Millennial nostalgia baiting you. Instead I want to encapsulate everything that has been lost. Detailed above is a story. It is a lived experience that a family would have and share repeatedly through the good, the bad, and the mediocre.

Now it all has been boiled down to a couple minutes before you hit play on a movie in Netflix. All those experiences gone.

Can you even say you chose that movie on Netflix? At Blockbuster you would surf through movies based on vibes and chance. Netflix is showing you 10 options based on things you've watched recently, what your "demographic" enjoys, what is popular in your country, and many other unknowns hidden away in the algorithm.

Some say we're in the middle of a Meaning Crisis. To me it is clear this in part to there being no story. We literally lost the plot. When everything is instantly and effortlessly provided what story can be told about your existence? When you go around the dinner table discussing your day, what is there left to say? If you're never having to think that hard about life, when are you awake?

We must slow down. We must explore the inconvenient. We must create inefficient space to create identity.

For my entire adult life I have driven a manual transmission car. Make no mistake that automatics are more convenient. Hell, they're faster than a manual too technically. What you gain in convenience you lose in control and experience. A manual allows you to feel like the car is more a tool that you're connected to. At every stoplight you're having to think about your next shift and when. When parked on a hill or going up a hill you have to make adjustments so you don't stall out. With every winding road you're constantly up and down shifting based on what is needed in that moment. Someday I'll be forced to go automatic and will wax poetic about how much better these days of driving were.

Shaving is a regular part of my life. I could opt for the common Gillette that would make shaving quick and mindless. Instead I choose a straight razor. Mindfully I must be careful to not cut myself. Preparing to shave and cleaning up takes way more time. Instead of it taking 1 minute to shave it takes 5. Who is so desperate for an extra couple minutes?

I recently started practicing Gongfu Cha. It is a Chinese tea tradition that forces you to go through a process of warming the tools, prepping the tea, pouring the tea, and enjoying the tea. It is also a social tradition so ideally you're doing it with friends. Of course I could throw a tea bag in some hot water and sip it. But why do that when I can learn about it and practice something mindfully while hanging out?

For years I have smoked pipes. Pipe smoking is woefully inconvenient which led to the invention of cigarettes. The act of packing a pipe and then constantly tending a flame while enjoying the outdoors is a great way to build a mindfulness practice into your routine. Getting the perfect smoke out of a pipe is a lifelong art.

Soon too I will introduce more records into my life. I want that experience of having to venture out into the world to a store to sift through albums and then very purposefully decide to play a track at home.

These are some of the ways others may be thinking I "waste" my time. To me it is a deliberate adventure. It creates an opportunity for something to be learned or for a new event to happen. These are all components of who I am and my story. At my funeral they will maybe share these characteristics and interests about me that I otherwise wouldn't have if I gave in to convenience.

We aren't built for ultimate convenience. It seems we're in this race to the bottom of making things as efficient as possible to create more time to fill with more efficient things. People then wonder how they feel so empty despite having done so much.

Whenever you're doing something easily make sure to stop and ask what was sacrificed. What you could be sacrificing is your story.