I certainly do my share of navel gazing. You know. Introspection on steroids.
We talk and write about ourselves endlessly these days. We do so to feel better (about everything), to do better (hoping to learn), and possibly… to defer action with the appearance of action – thus, the navel gazing.
And we undertake these activities with righteous determination to stare down our demons, question our motivations, and dig deep for, well… whatever it takes to get through the day.
I may glance through journals I’ve kept over the years – journals that serve me as a writer and also offered a form of therapy during tough times. Or, I may skim any number of personal musings here, on the virtual page.
I may let my fingers do the walking through boxes of photographs, obsessing over a few, scrutinizing while I try to figure out what went wrong and when it happened – as if some dime store detective work on my part, focused on a dozen years ago, could shed any light on life as I live it today.
But I’m trying to cut it out. Or at least, cut down.
Navel-Gazing, 10; Valuable Self-Assessment, 1
I’m a fan of self-assessment. I believe in looking at myself honestly. I’ve gained invaluable lessons in the process.
But our culture of excessive self-absorption? Our compulsion to capture every moment via media of some sort? Our desire to make detailed records of our lives and our children’s lives? Isn’t there something desperate in all this? Some broad-based overcompensation?
Where is the line between living our lives, and documenting them as if that is living a life? At what point does introspection become counterproductive, not to mention narcissistic?
How many millions of “personal memoirs” are anything more than our current fascination with the “self” because it’s a way of feeling like we have a voice in the crowd? The 15 minutes of fame super-sized to 15 months of writing out our personal dramas or for that matter, our everyday lives?
Listen. This isn’t a criticism. I’m guilty as charged, myself. But here’s a little something on The New York Times that gave me pause this morning. It’s the “Memoir” app.
Outsource Your Memory?
In a brief business item, “Outsource Your Memory With an App,” we should feel safer in not recalling all our precious moments because now we’ll have an app to help us do so!
Really? Let’s think about this.
Recognizing that:
Mementos we once might have pasted in a scrapbook are now largely stored on our phones and scattered between apps like Facebook, Instagram, Foursquare and Twitter… a new start-up called Memoir wants to take the place of that scrapbook on your iPhone.
“More of our lives is being automatically recorded,” said Lee Hoffman, one of the company’s founders. “But it goes into a box and you never look at it.”
Well, this makes sense. Wouldn’t we want to organize everything we have on our smartphones? The pictures, the video clips, the reminders?
Is this really the replacement for the once tactile and lovingly crafted scrapbook, passed down through the generations? Is this the logical next step for all that we feel hungry to pinpoint and hang onto, all that we can’t possibly recall – that currently doesn’t reside in a single easy-access repository?
Is this harmless, or better yet, helpful?
Assisting Memory or Exacerbating Narcissism?
I can certainly imagine uses for a memory app, particularly with our multitasking-crazed culture, the need to call up pieces of information in short order, not to mention, having a record of moments we’ve treasured. I worry that we consider every moment, one worth “treasuring.”
I can imagine the usefulness of being able to quickly access an image that may aid in sparking the memory of someone we love, who may be dealing with early stage Alzheimer’s. I worry that in becoming so dependent on apps, we lose our muscle for memory, already strained by what is fundamentally unimportant.
Yes, my brain is bombarded daily and I’m all for digital means to assist in organizing tasks, capturing ideas for myself and my clients, and making it easier to get to the series of images for a recipe I need versus pictures of my kids at a college graduation.
Value… and Values
Naturally, I’d like to retain images from my family life that tug at a sentimental heart string. But, but, but… will this feed into pointless navel-gazing? Is moderation the real challenge?
The danger, at least to me, is that we will continue along the ever popular road of self, self, self – so preoccupied with exploring our deepest feelings or documenting our mundane moments that we’re only superficially living them.
We become the photojournalists of our own lives, sacrificing quality of experience for data capture.
While this may not be navel-gazing per se, isn’t it a cousin? Isn’t the root of the problem the same – our feeling small and overwhelmed in a culture that unwittingly disengages us from communities, while insisting we be grateful for every moment in which we’re “present?”
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Haha. So glad to know I have a kindred spirit here, D.
A guy I was dating once said to me, “You love yourself. I mean, you *love* analyzing yourself.” Of course, the problem was that I never loved myself enough, though that didn’t stop me from loving myself as a topic. Like you, I try to moderate my tendencies to look inward and to tell people my findings. I try to look for how often I write or say “I”, for example. It’s too easy to indulge in self-analysis in this age of blogging and other social media, especially in a country where individualism is so valued to begin with.
Yep… Exactly, C. But it’s funny how individualism is valued, yet we’re always worried about fitting in…
Hello D.A. – I noticed I have actually taken fewer pix now! For me I am either in the mood to capture a feeling or feel the moment. And as you stated they don’t happen simultaneously. I enjoy time with friends and family and have them etched in my mindbank. I’m always torn when I have the camera on hand; but I guess that’s because digital is so easy and free! Same thing with smart phone.
“Etched in your mindbank.” That’s lovely, Pia.
1.I’m a fan of self-assessment. 2. I believe in looking at myself honestly.
1. When is enough enough? 2). Is it possible?
Get someone close to share introspection with for a reality check, or at least for another view.
Memory. Ah, yes and no. I don’t trust anything for permanence that is on line. Plus, while it does exist there, it is visible to most anyone (if anyone would care — yawn).
My mother’s memory was mostly gone during the last year of her life (she did recognize friends, of course). One day at a time, she would say. Something could be said for that (she was still the same personality, just specific memories gone).
I should probably do a little more self-assessment or navel-gazing, but I am not a fan. I love stories and storytelling. I love taking photos. I love recording family events, although they are not well organized. I love that my husband’s family has photos and letters and his great-grandfather has a memoir published by a university in Iowa. They actually did a genealogy, which is fascinating. It is history.
Yes, lots of people spend a lot of time focused on themselves. We are a culture that has decided to value self over community. We find community in weird ways – Twitter, FB, etc. Maybe, it is just a different way of living in the world, of socializing with one’s family and friends, because we are a mobile society.
But apps – I hate most apps. They want to gather all of the information they can about you and your contacts, etc. They follow you and keep track of what you do, what you like, where you go, etc. So, no thanks. I’ll pass on an app that is going to show me my memoirs from last year or whenever. They could tell you more about my navel than I care to share.
I usually take photos with my camera, but one day I was without it, so I had to use my phone. Google automatically sent the photos to my laptop. Call me surprised! I didn’t ask them to do that.
I may have gotten a little off the point….
Love your insight, Rob. More about your navel than you care to know… Big Brother in tinier and tinier spaces. 😉
We’re in those early stages of determining how to “document” all the firsts that O. is rapidly progressing through — first smile, first teeth, first attempts to crawl, sit up, stand, even walk! Those moments I allow myself the leeway to capture with plenty of photos (because getting a good shot of a wiggly baby is hard). But in terms of * sharing * all of it … we have friends who send us moments daily from their 2-year-old’s day that we’re not inclined to peruse. It’s made me particularly mindful of how and what we share with our own friends — keeping many images of our son for my husband and me to enjoy (and winnow down to print for his baby book), but only sharing a digital selection in much edited fashion so as not to overwhelm viewers. My fear with apps like Memoir is that it just encourages putting it all out there with less and less discretion. I don’t know enough about this particular app to comment on just how it works, but I’ve seen some similar things that track your every move, bite, change of location, etc., for friends to get updated on. Honestly, I’d rather hear the story from a friend’s mouth in a conversation over coffee or a meal rather than see shots of the event in my inbox and then nothing more.
I’m with you on all of it, CT. But capturing those firsts – for your family – is very precious. xo to all of you, and a hug to O.