If I were a priest, I’d have a confessional just for people with Gadget Sins. And I’d be first in line to confess.
(OMG, she said “Sin!” Is this blog turning religious? Will I be offended if I keep reading this??)
Not exactly. And maybe.*
Let’s talk about sin for a minute. I’ve noticed that most people do not want to talk about sin. We’re either stuck in guilt or quick to say “you’re not the boss of me, God.” Either way, that feels bad. No wonder people don’t want to talk about it.
What if we stop thinking about how we feel just for a minute and consider what we are doing?
My over-simplified opinion is that sin is any action that separates us from God. Part of how we experience the divine is in relationships with each other: we love each other even when we’re hard to love and we share what God has given us. Ergo, if we’re really stinking it up in our relationships, we’re not choosing to experiencing divine love at its fullest.
Recently, I had a wake-up call about this kind of disconnect when someone told me that she was painfully frustrated with her husband and his Gadget Du Jour. Their young child said “Dad misses a lot.”
Wow.
It was a piercing feeling to know that my family could say the same thing.
I had to ask myself: what am I doing that is not honoring my personal relationships and could be harming my connection with God? What am I putting ahead of my relationships?
Sometimes, it’s being obsessed with gadgets. I love things that fit in my hand and light up and fetch email and play games remotely and take messages and tweet and vibrate when something vaguely notification-worthy happens. But, at times, I have put gadgets and their bright-shiny distractiliciousness ahead of dear, living, breathing people. I have Gadget Sinned.
Are we really in love with gadgets? No, we’re just smitten with the sense of power that they offer and the way that they reinforce certain beliefs, like…
We must stay connected to get the job done!
We must be available 24/7 for people to consider us reliable!
We must not drop the ball!
Guess what? Big, fat lies. Big, fat, unsustainable, suffering-laden lies. At least for me.
Why do we believe the lies? Because they keep us feeling busy (or in control or significant) instead of feeling the gaping question, “What have I been missing?”
Here’s my truth:
I will disconnect and get the job done. (I can’t surf/tweet/facebook and write, for example.)
I choose not to be available 24/7, but I can be reliable by setting expectations that I can realistically honor.
I will definitely drop the ball, because I’m human. And I can make amends and improve every time that I do.
There is a silver lining to sin: we get to learn from it. I think sin exists as a constructive way to help us grow, not to make us feel guilty or unworthy. The pain of it makes us crave reunion with pure, divine love. That’s a powerful motivator for me!
If we can ride out the pain of asking what we have been missing and forgive ourselves and each other for letting that pain lead us into distraction, then miracles abound.
Those miracles are warm, squishy, sometimes good-smelling, sometimes poop-making, make-you-feel-alive people.
People who love you. Tender people who want your love. Generous people who want to love you back. People whose spirits are much brighter and shinier than any gadget or the false buzz that it offers.
Don’t worry about leaving a comment. Unplug and go hug somebody instead.
*For what it’s worth, I’m an enthusiastic Episcopalian who is constantly curious to see how God works in and around us. I’m not dogmatic about faith, especially other people’s.
By Laurie Foley
Laurie Foley helps solo professionals discover their natural brand so that they can get clear, get noticed and get clients. Sign up to receive your free copy of The Inner Brandifesto, her popular guidebook full of brand-building exercises.
