It is quiet here. Very quiet, more so than usual. Why? Because I am on a fast, a Lenten fast from technology.
Lent begins on Wednesday, and my Spiritual Theology professor has asked his students to undertake a six-week technology fast for the season, beginning last week.
I don’t use a lot of technology, don’t listen to much music except when driving, don’t use the cellphone much, but do need the internet for communication and research, so that leaves me with:
Television.
I’ve decided to turn off the television. Not that I’m a big watcher, but living alone while in graduate school, and very stressed, I’ve found it easy to unwind at night by watching a program or two before bed.
And that program or two has filled my mind with images I never needed to see or to know about, has wasted my time, has caused my prayer life to suffer, has suspended my mind, has made it difficult to focus because I find myself wondering what will happen next in the plot on this show, or who will win the next contest in that show. I find myself scheduling my day around this or that program I don’t want to miss, as if I’m making an appointment to spend time with a real person – and it is a world that doesn’t even exist, that is not real, that is manufactured – and is not even healthy.
And I don’t watch nearly as much TV as the average person.
So I unplugged the TV, and put it in the back of a deep closet where it will be hard to get out again.
And found it a blessed relief. Such quiet, and a mind recovering and emptying from all the flashy, and fleshy, images of the world that crowd in so compellingly. They spend millions, billions, on getting you to watch, you know.
I lived without TV for 15 years, through my 20’s into my mid-30’s, and I didn’t miss it. Now, I am purifying myself from it again.
Oh, and the music in the car? I’m turning that off, too, so now I’m living in my house in silence, and driving in my car in silence. So quiet. It is a blessed relief.
