(**NOTE: these show notes contain Amazon affiliate links. If you use these links to buy something I may earn a small commission)
No paywalls here; but if you have the means to support, it helps pay the grocery bill and keep the lights on - thank you for your encouragement and support!
There may be spelling / grammar mistakes in my articles that make it through my editing, and that’s on purpose. I’m a recovering perfectionist (who was once VERY hard on himself) and one of the ways I’m learning to be compassionate on myself is by allowing mistakes to just … be.
Friends.
I’ve been thinking a lot of technology lately and, in particular, how the technologies we (as humans) have created are (re)creating us.
And this is a new thought, right? For me anyways.
Because.
I was born in 1982 and so I remember when I got my very first NES (Nintendo Entertainment System) in 1987-ish and how cool it was to play “Duck Hunt” where you aimed a gun at the screen, pulled the trigger, and shot ducks like a hunter.
WHAT. Like, HOW did that even work?!
I remember when the Power Glove came out, which was a glove you could wear that plugged into the NES - it had buttons on it and was able to detect hand movements so you could control the character on the screen with the glove.
Again - WHAT?!
I remember getting our first computer in our home with dial-up Internet (Prodigy Internet) and installing Windows 98 (which came in a gigantic box with nothing short of 32 discs that took hours and hours and hours to install).
I remember when my parents got a fax machine and how crazy it was to think we could send a document to someone on the other side of town or even the country in a matter of minutes.
I remember when my parents got a car phone.
Beeepers/Pagers.
CDs.
DVDs.
Bluerays.
GameBoy.
Razor Phones.
When Facebook was just for colleges.
Myspace.
Etc.
Etc.
Etc.
And I say I’m having this “new thought” because with the arrival of each and every one of those previous pieces of technology, my question was always …
“What can this thing do for me?”
OR.
“What sorts of cool things can I do with this?”
In other words, the focus was always on what I could do with a piece of technology to create something, make somthing, or just have a good time.
BUT.
Now, though?
As social media advances, as algorithms take over our feeds, as AI becomes a more prominent fixture in everything.
I don’t know.
But I’m no longer wondering “what can I do with this cool piece of technology"?”; instead, I’m asking, “what is this (cool) piece of technology doing to me?”
And that’s a much different question, right?
Previously, I was the one who was using the technology and the technology was assisting me in some way; now, though, it often feels like the technologies around me are using me and molding me and evolving me in ways that (if I’m being honest) make me feel a bit uneasy.
I feel uneasy, for instance, about my lack of wondering.
I used to wonder about things all the time, you know? If something broke, I would wonder about how to fix it. If I wanted to make some sort of art, I would wonder about how to do it. If I came across a Bible verse I didn’t understand or a piece of theology that was new to me, I would wonder about it.
But … now?
I open up Google and within (literally) 5 seconds I have a library of information in front of my eyes with numerous answers to my question …
Detailed videos about how to fix the thing that’s broke.
Detailed explanations of how to do that artsy thing I want to try.
Detailed articles about the Bible verse that confused me.
Now.
PLEASE.
Don’t get me wrong - this is VERY helpful, right? The other day, for instance, my dishwasher broke and so I went to Google and Google’s AI assistant (Gemini) helped me pinpoint the problem, find the parts I needed, and fix the problem once the parts arrived.
Crazy!
Seriously.
I took my dishwasher APART (it was all over the kitchen) - I took the door off, I took out wires, I took apart the back of the dishwasher, replaced a heating element … all sorts of things that I never would have figured out if it weren’t for Google. I would have had to call an appliance company that (let’s face it) would have emptied my bank account and demanded one of my limbs!
And so I’m not here to say that technology is BAD or technology is GOOD.
I think we all know that it really isn’t either of those things - technology is technology and the the burden of responsibility as to whether it’s good or bad falls upon us who use it in good or not so good ways.
Instead, I’m here to wonder about things like what having such access to immediate answers is doing to us as humans who are wired to wonder.
Wired to wonder?
I’m reading a book by Aaron Cline Hanbury by that very name - “Wired For Wonder” where he wrestles with some of his own questions regarding technology, one of them being this idea that humans are wired for things like wonder and curiosity and reflection and dreaming and how technology, frankly, makes it hard to be human in those ways.
Right?
I mean it’s hard to wonder about a Bible verse when Google can give me 32,000 different explanations for that verse.
It’s hard to sit with the mystery of how the sun works when I can ask Google how it works and be hit with a barrage of articles in a matter of seconds.
It’s hard to sit under the stars like our ancestors did and wonder what’s up there when I can ask ChatGPT and be given way more information that I can fathom.
In other words.
It’s hard to feel small when we have immediate access to such a BIG vault of information.
And so lately I’ve been trying to be intentional with my wondering. For instance, the other day I came across a Bible verse that confused me. I had no idea what it meant even though I had read it a billion times.
My first inclination? - “Let’s Google it!”
BUT.
Instead?
I sat with the verse and wondered about it. Reflected on it. Pondered it. Read it again. And again. And, yet, again. Over and over. I thought about it while I made dinner, wondered about it in the shower, and even pondered it as I fell asleep.
And today?
Weeks later?
I STILL haven’t Googled it and decided that I won’t Google it.
Why?
Not because I don’t want to know “the answer”.
Not because I don’t want to understand it better.
Not because I don’t care.
BUT.
Because there’s something holy and good about not knowing and living with that tension and the mystery of it all.
After all.
It’s OK not to know.
It’s OK not to know the answer.
It’s OK to reflect on a mystery.
It’s OK to let the mystery expand you and stretch you.
Yeah - it’s OK, it’s good, and (I think) it’s very, very human.
Again - technology isn’t good and tecnology isn’t bad. Technology just … is. As humans, though? It’s up to us to use it responsibly, something that will look different for everyone.
How is that looking for YOU these days?
Much love.
Glenn || SUPPORT / ART STUDIO


