“We’re going to sit in our sukhasana, eyes closed, hands resting gently on our thighs, breathing deeply. Breath is energy; try to lengthen and deepen your breaths, bringing yourself farther into your center, pushing out the distractions…”

How does she get her ankles on the ground like that and her knees so flat? Am I going to pull some muscle because I’m not doing the pose exactly like she is? Man, this whole breathing deeply thing really takes me back to my Women’s Self-Defense classes at Calvin. I loved that class. I wonder if I could really defend myself if someone tried to attack me though. Oh, okay, done meditating. Now I have to lift my hands over my head…

—

“I recently started reading this book,” my father-in-law says as he lifts it up to the web-cam for us to see. The Shallows: What the Internet is Doing to Our Brains, the title says in shiny silver and blue letters.

“Sounds fascinating,” I say, probably too loudly since I’m always a little unsure about how well laptop microphones pick up voices. Whenever I Skype with anyone, I’m sure I’m yelling, but I can’t seem to stop.

“You know, some people have an ‘instrumentalist’ outlook on technology, that things like the Internet are just tools to be used, for good or for ill. But this author demonstrates how technologies, some more than others, actually change the shape of our brains, causing them to function differently than they did in previous generations. Things like the Internet and smart phones have changed our attention spans, our eyesight, how we process information, and how we view the world. In a big way, technologies play a role in determining who we are and who we can be.”

Ben and I swap knowing looks. He and I have had countless discussions about the perils of the newest technologies. He’ll bring home stories about Intel’s newest uses for their fancy chips, about the trends in big tech companies and what they might mean for the future of this industry or that menial task, and I’ll slip into my dystopian dread like it’s a well-worn pair of slippers. I pride myself on having a healthy skepticism when it comes to this, that, or the other miracle machine. I like to think I’ve read enough science fiction to know better than to let technology take over my life.

—

“As we move from our time of worship in song to a time of worship in communion, let’s each just come to God in this time, thanking Him for the gift and sacrifice of His Son and the grace he extends to us each day, each moment, so that we may have right hearts…”

Father, God, I thank you for your son, for this meal, and for the elders’ wives who bring those really great appetizers on the Lord’s Supper Sundays. I didn’t see the cheese plates that are usually there, but I guess those are probably in the fridge, waiting for the end of the service. I’m so glad I’m not teaching in Sunday school today; these special services are so much longer, and it’s so hard to get the kids to behave for that long. You’d think these kids would be easier to handle than the kids I work with on a daily basis, but I guess kids in general are just—oh, we’re taking the bread and grape juice now. Shoot, I forgot to finish my prayer…

—

“Do you think that if I stopped the data plan on my phone, I could still use it for the apps and stuff when it’s attached to WiFi?” I ask Ben as we’re sitting across the dining room table at dinner.

“Maybe,” he says. “I know parents have done that with their old iPhones, giving them to their kids to use like little game systems. I just don’t know of anyone who’s done it with an Android device before.”

“Yeah, me either.”

We fall silent for a little bit, enjoying the nicely caramelized pork chops. I imagine how much freer I will feel once I achieve my dream of going back to my dinky little slider phone and using my smart phone only for the apps that I really feel like I need, and only when I’m at home or at least connected to WiFi. How much more present will I be able to be to my friends and family when I don’t have the temptation to Clash my Clans at any given opportunity? How much more productive will I be once I can escape the clutches of being constantly reachable by every single social media and messaging platform that exists? I pride myself on always being the one person at any gathering who is not on her phone. My heart smiles when I think about how irregularly I check my Facebook, and how I don’t even remember my Twitter password.

—

The cold air in the little attic-like third bedroom of our apartment swirls around me; I could see my breath if I turned on the light. Instead, I’ve lit all the big candles I own, nestled myself under one of my favorite snuggly blankets, and settled in with my Bible, a devotional book about 1 Corinthians, a journal, and a pen. I pride myself on my devotional time and space, these moments and places that I’ve carved out of my life in an intentional way. Hymns are playing quietly from my little Bluetooth speaker to fill the space with meaningful sound.

All right, I should pray to get started. Dear Father God, thank you for this day and for this chance I have to spend an hour…will it be an hour? What time is it? Okay, yeah, an hour will be fine and then I’ll go to Giant Eagle, and by the time I’m done with that I will have plenty of time to work out. Oh, wait. Praying. Right. Thank you for this chance I get to spend with you. Please guide my thoughts and heart as I read your word so that I might have a better chance of understanding it the way you would have me—oh, this is my favorite hymn. And Chris Rice has such a good version of it, too. I remember listening to this song on the train through Bayern. The mountains were so beautiful. That was quite the religious experience…which this is supposed to be too. Shoot. Okay. I’ll just start reading. Maybe if I read aloud, I’ll be less likely to get distracted…

Mary Margaret Healy

Mary Margaret is a 2013 English, history, and secondary education grad who went rogue and became a Social Worker in Pennsylvania’s Child Welfare system. Specifically, she works as a caseworker in the Statewide Adoption and Permanency Network finding families for children and educating the masses about foster care, adoption, and permanency planning. She made it over the grad-school hurdle with gold stars and warm fuzzies and is on to the next big adventure: the unknown of adulthood. Her major writing dream right now is to finish her science fiction novel that explores the concurrent futures of child welfare and artificial intelligence.