High Tech vrs. High Touch

Before we lose ourselves completely, I bow the knee to all humans who have gone before, who have seeded, swelled, risen up, striven and died in a cascade of millennia.

Now every thing we touch is powered and mechanized. We used to need each other: for everything: entertainment, solace, accomplishment, salvation, understanding and nurture. Now, we have to make the effort to connect: around the wires, cubes, tubes, cars, walls.

I see us in a great tinfoil crackle and spin, up and out of this world in a blinding flash of zeroes, ones, chatter and pixels. Finally: our brain has the victory it has always longed for: ABOVE. GREATER. Rising out of that body:  pesky, messy.

The house can be ignored, we tell ourselves and so believe.
So long as my needs are served.
So long as the house staff keeps it up.

Who is running things?

Who is truly at the helm?

There is no thought, no intelligence, consciousness, achievement or progress
without the vessel:  squishy flesh.

We should honor the vessel: naked and bleeding though it may be. We should. At present, it seems we’re enslaved by either the cold idealism of technological innovation — turning all of us into outfitted cybermen — or engorged hedonism.

How can we evolve in such circumstances? I propose it is not through intellectual grasping or genetic tinkering. We have everything we need, after all, and it’s not up and out: it’s in – and through – all those bits of us that we try to escape by being anything other than what we are:  gorgeous, temporary, fragile,  seamless bags of life and light.

We may be wandering into a great darkness ahead but we are not alone. We have each other, which, despite evidence to the contrary, has always been our greatest gift and the only thing that gives our own life meaning. And we are reminded, sometimes, of our intrinsic worth and perfection only when another human, wandering with us, tells us we matter through the devotion and encouragement of their touch.

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One thought on “High Tech vrs. High Touch

  1. Pingback: You are a Body. Not a Head. | Of Our Hands, One Hand

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