The Shortest Distance Between Two Points

Nowadays, we often travel to our destinations by the shortest possible route, taking wide clean featureless highways as dictated by our electronic guidance device. We take the easy road that someone else has chosen for us instead of the interesting road we might discover for ourselves. We no longer have our own adventures.

What we lose when we take the path that someone else has mapped out is those odd little nooks and crannies, the quirky little side roads we only discover by accident. And speaking of maps, how often do we even look at a big picture view, which gives us an overall sense of where we are going and offers us choices instead of giving us moment-by-moment commands?

More and more, our social media channels and smart technology also guide us and prompt us along the path most travelled, the topics most likely to interest us based on what we have always done before. The options offered to someone else with different tastes and experiences are not even on our radar.

The world is an increasingly complex and overwhelming place. We are more aware than ever of the scale of information that we just don't know, and it seems to neutralize our ability to make decisions based solely on our own knowledge and experience. We don't trust ourselves, and despite our seemingly skeptical and cynical societal values, we seem to be eager and willing to put our trust in something we perceive to be smarter than us. It has even been suggested that the recent popularity of some extreme religious or political groups is that they tell their followers exactly what to think, what to do, how to behave; there is no need to make decisions, just to follow the rules without question.

This unquestioning willingness to let someone else tell us what's good, what's cool, what will be best for us, also spills over into the tangential aspects of our journeys, when we fall into the pattern of choosing the safe and familiar, the big box stores and brand name restaurants, instead of the unique little corner pub or family boutique. We know what we will get and there are no surprises. 

How sad.

There is a well-known poem by Linda Ellis about the shortest distance between two symbols on a tombstone, represented by the dash between the dates of birth and death. I plan to make my dash a long and swirly one, filled with side trips and adventures, unique stories and authentic experiences that define me as a one-of-a-kind piece in the big puzzle.

Out of Touch

Our world is changing at an exponential rate. Personal interactions are increasingly filtered by technology and more and more of the products we use on a daily basis are created without ever being touched by human hands.

The industrial revolution changed our work patterns drastically. Most of our jobs today are far removed from the cottage industries and farms of the past, from a sense of self-sufficiency and knowing that the work of our hands is real and life-giving. We are smaller cogs in a bigger machine. We don't seems to build the same strong interdependent relationships with our communities and our sense of civic responsibility seems to have diminished accordingly. 

The information age is now upon us, and a new revolution is brewing. It seems we no longer need to actually learn anything or retain information, because we can always "Google" it; and besides, there is just too much information out there for our tiny human brains to handle. Clutter has become virtual as well as tangible. The information we do retain seems to have moved away from broad spectrum knowledge and critical thinking towards extremely specialized expertise that may or may not connect to anything else; towards a polarized focus on trivia and the minute details of our own psyches and away from larger world views and physical involvement in social justice issues—other than social media clicks and shares, which mostly cost us nothing and require no sacrifice of our time or resources.

But a counter-culture movement towards the personal, the human, the handmade and heartfelt is also growing. William Morris, one of my favourite designers of the Arts and Crafts movement, is quoted as saying "Have nothing in your house that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful." A second Arts and Crafts movement seems to be upon us, with the booming growth of sites like Etsy and small homegrown family businesses like one of my favourites, Tanis Fiber Arts. A burgeoning interest in organic and locally grown food has seeded the expansion of farm stands and food markets in recent years; and—although no one seems to have time to volunteer anymore—identifying ourselves with social causes and charitable foundations seems to have become an important element of our corporate and personal identities on sites like LinkedIn and social media campaigns like last year's wildly successful ALS Ice Bucket Challenge.

So, are we out of touch? Or are we more in touch than ever, but in a new way? I guess only time will tell.

The War on Privacy

Why do we raise such a ruckus about privacy while we seem simultaneously compelled to manifest our entire destinies in the digital arena? We battle our demons, take on those who disagree with us as if we are modern-day gladiators; we jump on our soap boxes, share every detail of our daily drama like soap opera stars, and live our social lives on social media.

Entertainment trumps authenticity, "reality" shows trumpet the worst of human nature and we eat it up. The veil between smart technology and foolish behaviour is being pulled back an inch at a time. Short bursts of attention-grabbing take precedence over long term building: we make it all or nothing, now or never; we rely on ultimatums instead of conversations, we use words as weapons instead of tools. Simple questions spark righteous indignation instead of thoughtful response. Spelling, etiquette, politeness, thorough research, patience, give and take... all become casualties of war; a guerilla war we can't win if we aren't aware—or don't care—about the part we all have to play in keeping our heads and hearts in line as well as online.

Mentors

OK, you may have noticed we're on a bit of a theme this week. And if we're going to talk about apprenticeship, we also need to talk about mentors.

This is a time when we need mentors more than ever. We need leaders we can respect and look up to, heroes to emulate, role models to learn from, footsteps to follow. Our individualistic culture has given us many gifts: freedom, a sense of possibility, a belief in our own abilities... but to a degree, it has also turned us inward and shaped the belief that it all begins and ends with ourselves.

Mom and Dad: if you're reading this, you'll remember the famous words of adolescence... "I'd rather make my own mistakes."

OK, fine... but as much as it's good to have initiative, to demonstrate independence, to learn something for ourselves—if we don't also have mentors, teachers and guides, we can spend a lot of time lost in the woods, re-discovering fire and re-inventing the wheel. I believe in experiential learning, but there's no reason for everyone to start from scratch. That's just wasting time that could be spent making headway on some of the really important problems we face: finding solutions to violence, hunger, injustice, poverty, and an environment decaying at a seemingly exponential rate.

We could be standing on the shoulders of giants, seeing so much further into both past and future... if only we could find someone who's been through some of the things, someone to learn from, someone to trust. We can read about those people with the big ideas, listen to them on TED, follow them on social media, peruse their blogs, listen to their podcasts... but can we really connect on a personal level, learn one-on-one, share our missteps and ask for advice? Maybe so; maybe the future mechanism is different than the traditional one.

And what if we could take the time to BE one of those people for the next guy? We don't have to be the one with ALL the answers, but surely each of us has learned something of value along the way, in some area of our life, that could be a cornerstone for someone else out there. Can we be generous enough to share freely?

A mentor is someone who comes to meet us where we are and walks with us to the destination we're travelling towards, telling us stories and pointing out landmarks along the way. "That's where the bear almost got me; the water in that spring is pure; watch out for the loose rocks on the side of that hill...and just over there, almost hidden from sight, is a rare flower that only grows here... but you need to keep your eyes open or you'll miss it."

Build relationships of trust, share ideas and experiences generously, reach for the stars; find a mentor, be a mentor. 

Keeping it Down to a Dull Roar...

Social media is a mighty stream; messages rush by and rise up around us like mist. For those of us who grew up on dry land, it seems as though the surge could pull us under without a trace. There are some who thrill to the challenge of the extreme and dive right off the cliff into the waterfall; some who were born in the water and navigate with ease; some who choose to stand by and watch... and others who prefer to get their feet wet by wading in a quieter pool and practicing their stroke until confident that they can keep their head above water.

Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night trying to process all the information that has been swirling around me from social media channels all day long. Blogging from my own quiet web page and sharing it on Twitter, Facebook, Google+ or LinkedIn is part of my daily training, of preparing for an eventual swim across the channel; stroke by stroke, day by day. There are days when it's tough to get motivated, days when the flow is pleasant and comfortable, days when my feet drag on the bottom, and days when meeting the challenge both exhausts and exhilarates.

Why do it at all? Because the information age is upon us, the inundation of constant communication flows over us incessantly, threatening to drown us out...and familiarity with the environment may help improve our capacity to fish for the quicksilver salmon, to pan the gold from the mud, and to retain the ability to hear our own thoughts over the dull roar.