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A Terribly Convenient Life

My writing group started back up yesterday (thank the good Lord) and our first assignment was to spend 10 minutes writing about something we care about. I care about a lot of things, so the first 3 minutes of this exercise involved my attempting to slow down the onslaught of ideas long enough to capture and land on one of them.

What came to the forefront is my concern for the souls of our collective humanity. So, you know, nbd. This particular writing assignment provides a snapshot into what I see as the erosion of human connection brought on by all of the convenience technology delivers. We're like lobsters (or frogs) roiling to a slow boil. It's time to pay attention.

If you prefer to listen to me read it to you, click the link below. May we all learn to pay attention and find our way to a healthy balance.


A Terribly Convenient Life

I phoned my personal banker

to ask about a loan

to finance the car

that I haven’t been driving

these past two years.

Her voicemail answered,

and I noted the message

that in her voice said

she’d be back


Soon after I received an email with a link to apply online.

“So convenient, voice mail,” I thought.

I texted my handyman

to ask if he was coming back

to finish the job

repairing my ceiling

he started last week.

I immediately received his response: a yellow thumbs up.

“So convenient, texting,” I thought.

I placed an order to buy coffee

from a store in Seattle,

miles away from where I am,

to be shipped


I instantly received an email confirmation.

“So convenient, online ordering,” I thought.

I worked out with a trainer,

had groceries delivered,

sent flowers to a friend, and

never left the house


I rewarded myself by binging new episodes of my favorite show.

“So convenient, technology,” I thought.

I laid my head down

on my pillow

before sleeping

to play back the tape

of the day’s events.

Every task on

my long to-do list

was complete

and yet here on my pillow

I felt so


"Alexa," I said, "add a note:

make an appointment

with my therapist

to discuss

loneliness and


“Your note has been added” she replied.

“So convenient, this disconnection from humanity,” I thought.


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