In a Zenny mindfulness class I’m taking, a woman explained the mantra she asks herself whenever she senses her brain wandering cluelessly:

“Am I present?”

Most people anymore might prefer to ask themselves,

“Am I connected?”

Whatever happened to watching waves? Or a simple sporting event, for that matter? When did it become virtually de rigueur to be playing with your device(s) while chatting, studying, walking, eating, and (yes) pooping?

Last Sunday, I found myself slapping my forehead in shock and awe as this mass addiction played out. Here are just 5.5 of those scenes.

• Basketball refs on break. During halftime, two refs strutted to their chairs to rest—and picked up their cell phones and started tapping even before grabbing their Gatorade.
• Sidetracked driver. I was driving at 40 mph, and a car languidly pulled out of a coffee shop parking lot right in front of me. She didn’t see me, didn’t signal, and motored ahead way too slowly—only to swerve off on a freeway entrance ramp while executing a horrendous merge. When I passed her, there she was, blithely chatting on her cell phone and gesturing away. Dangerously not present.
• Three at a time. I watched some young girls having a playdate. Teddy bears? American Girl? Barbie?  Sometimes, we hope. But Babs has some pretty tough competition when the girls are watching TV— and simultaneously playing on an iPad and a handheld device.
• Preoccupied coach. Picture a soccer tournament with 10-year-old girls playing hard on a wet, windy day. Impressive stuff, except for their coach, who got at least six phone calls during the game—and took turns yelling at her team and into her iPhone.
• Sunday supper. When entering a restaurant, I noticed a family sitting at a table waiting for their food. In the old days, this might have been a chance to catch up, plan summer, or just yuck it up. In these new days, the gathering instead offered a fine chance to … stare solo at mobile phone screens and occasionally click them.
• Yes, pooping. Back at that basketball tournament, the one men’s bathroom stayed busy. I ducked in to pee. But all the urinals were occupied. So I proceeded to the toilet stalls, opened two doors, and on both sat roundballers texting away while taking care of business. (I don’t know why they left the doors unlocked.)

May you live in techy times, my friends, and find much productivity, creativity, and connectivity with your tools and toys.

May you also remember to set them down now and than and ask yourself, “Am I present?”

A recent article from McClatchy describes our lust for technology—smart phones, SM, TV, games—and the fact that we are not alone. That is, our life partners likely share this myopic desire. And that’s wreaking havoc on relationships.

Having trouble connecting with your S.O.? It’s probably because they’re instead connecting with other people virtually nonstop. Who hasn’t seen the couple on a date giving googly eyes not to each other, but to their phones? Who hasn’t heard about break-ups (and hook-ups) done entirely via text messages?

Consider the habits of 18 to 34 year-old women, the most heavy users of SM:

• 39% refer to themselves as “Facebook addicts”
• 34% get on Facebook first thing in the morning (before going to the bathroom or brushing their teeth)
• 21% check Facebook in the middle of the night.

The psycho community has taken note. Psychologist David Greenfield, who founded the Center for Internet and Technology Addiction, notes that checking digitalia hundreds of times a day generates dopamine, that feel-good chemical associated with addiction.

In some countries, boys are routinely sent away to rehab camps to try to break their gaming habit.

Then there’s multitasking. Though some researchers dispute whether the human brain can truly “do” more than one thing at a time, many folks sure do try. One practice that keeps growing in popularity is, of course, watching TV while surfing your computer. That habit grew by 34.5% in 2009.

So what’s a partner to do? Perhaps just “being together,” which is to say in the same room and in the flesh, is going to be about as good as it gets. Oh well, if the relationship feels distant and reticent, you can always text each other.

“NOT in MY house!” So goes an old saying. And in MY house, those NOTS include a short but do-able list of guidelines for Sundays:

• In my dreams!

Naturally, that vision of “keeping the Sabbath” has worked about as well as a dead battery. Sundays now may feature not one but two sports practices—even for my nine-year old! We all work if we need to. The kids study. And the dream has become to simply sit for Sunday Supper. But that often morphs into Subway Supper, while my kids still can’t competently chop a carrot.

• Enter anxiety and depression

In his new book, “24/6: A Prescription for a Happier, Healthier Life,” one Dr. Matthew Sleeth makes a compelling plea for people to slow down. One day a week. Like our forbears did for 2,000 years—until we got so dang busy during the last 30 years. We weren’t meant to work this hard—or to be so wired, literally and metaphorically.

In this CNN interview, he calls America “the most depressed country in the world,” while observing that “I don’t have enough time” has become the mantra of our era. It’s making us sick, he asserts. And he ought to know; he’s a physician with much emergency-room experience. Yet he notes that doctors rarely ask about your work, stress, or rest.

• “You get more done…”

Dr. Sleeth maintains that, for those who somehow swing it,

you actually get more things done on the six days that you are working,” and “keeping one day of rest a week has been the single best thing they’ve done for their marriage, their family and their spiritual relationship.”

Imagine that! Greater productivity, less stress, more zen.

The career-break movement lobbies for the right to take grand, faraway getaways. Yet in a world of workaholism, prescribing taking Sundays off or keeping your hand off your devices is akin to fighting to take bottles away from a party of addicted drunks.

Still, it’s worth a shot (so to speak). The accelerated lifestyle that we’ve bought into is careening out of control. And at the end of the day, or should we say week?, wouldn’t we all, deep down, love to lighten our load and unwind a little?

A few nights ago, I returned from an event to join my extended family—which in this case included five children in a living room.  They were gathered in darkness around a blaring TV.  Four of them had devices in their hands.  Nobody was talking, and few looked up when I entered the room.  No:

“Good evening, Mr. Cleaver!”

The only child without a device was my nine-year-old daughter.  And I actually felt sorry for her.

SURVEY SEZ…

• 42% of parents worldwide say they don’t take time to have fun with their kids on a daily basis.
• 49% say that, when spending time as a famiy, their families are distracted by technology.
• 55% of working parents say their mobile devices and computer technology mean it’s too easy to stay connected to work during time with family.

Although I felt sorry for my daughter for not having the toy the others did, I feel sorry for all of us.  If my house provides any indicator, here are just a few of the one-time guidelines that have completely gotten forgotten…

• Don’t text where you sh*t.
• Eating zones are tech-free zones.
• Adults will kindly refrain from turning all spaces into work spaces.
• Homework, music practice, and chores (as if) come before digitalia.
• Devices are put to bed an hour before bedtime, including on weekends.

Beat ‘em or join ‘em?

Those of us who still aren’t addicted to technology have difficult decisions to make.  Do we give up, inhale, and become another one of them?  Do we stubbornly keep insisting that real life is the 3D kind (that doesn’t require glasses) and risk being left out?  Do we get serious about moving somewhere that is still real?

Can we even have this discussion anymore, or is it just too late?  I fear I know the answer.

At least in my house.

Not yet.  But stick around a few years.  Time Warner did a study recently, and survey sez…

If they had to give up one thing, here’s what New Yorkers would give up:

• 32% would give up their coffee
• 30% would give up good bagels
• 3% would give up fast internet access

Facebook came along in, what, 2004?  Coffee has been around since, what, before dirt?  And as for bagels, we non-New-Yorkers wouldn’t know a good bagel if it bit us in the butt (so New Yorkers tell us).

Wonder how many would choose fast internet access over a career break?

No, no:  I don’t want to know…

1. Go to NOLA and become a world-class freeze-mime for tips on Bourbon Street.  Like she did —–>
2. As Kempt suggests, when out with buddies, stack your phones on the table; the first one to grab theirs picks up the tab.  Party on, Garth!
3. Same thing with family Sunday Supper, but the grabber does the clean-up.
4. Escape on BreakAway to somewhere like St. John—a place so captivating (and relatively un-wired) your screens seem superfluous.
5. Take a road trip with the music so loud you can’t hear your phone.
6. Speaking of music, ditch that wimpy dock, get a kick-ass stereo again, and get lost in your rock and roll and drift away…
7. Shhhh…Try—just try—a silence and tech-free retreat on your birthday.
8. Get so down and dirty in your yard or garden that you’ll ruin that thing if you answer that text.
9. Head to your neighborhood elementary and read to the kids; if you’d rather be Googling, you’re hopeless.
10. Drop your phone in the toilet; happens all the time, really!
11. Or worse, do like so many Minnesotans of late have been doing and go for a drive on this weird winter’s thin ice—and fall through.  (Kidding!)

Well, what’dya know.  After thousands of deaths, countless injuries, and enough accidents to make an auto-body-shop owner dance on graves, the NTSB has finally decided that cell phones and driving don’t mix.

“Inattention” is the label they put the problem.  Indeed.  People who choose to be present in conversations (or presenting to groups) often see this disorder in others, but at least no one’s getting hurt.  I’m not one of those government haters—and have driven with phone—but this delayed reaction confirms NTSB’s incompetence.  Shame.

Most states do no better.  And most drivers wouldn’t pay attention to phone laws, to say nothing of cops.  So don’t expect the NTSB’s shocking declaration—or the suddenly-famous reports of 25 dead here, 11 dead there—to change a thing.

So the advice from the NBAB (National BreakAway Board) remains the same:  Unplug.  Drive your car.  Focus on where you’re going.  And whenever possible, transport yourself someplace far away from pile-ups, trauma, and undeserving distractions.

Our local paper (remember those?) ran a story recently about a young man named Taylor Baldry who sets up a proper table near a popular walking path, and invites passersby to stop for a Free Conversation.  WTF!?!  LOL!!! TMI!!?!!

It’s part of a project (part self-help, part performance art) he calls “The Conversationalist.” And believe it or don’t, he gets many takers—and they report walking away inspired, refreshed, and touched.  This begs the question:

Have we (especially we “haves”) gotten so busy and gadget-dependent that a free-range conversation with a stranger piques a nostalgic interest like a cute kid’s lemonade stand?”

Check out this pic of two Italian men outside the coffee shop.  Now THAT’S communication and connection—complete with waving arms, proximity, and touch.  Americans (especially we cold Northerners) may keep our distance.  But traditionally, we do love to talk.  Yet it seems that even that passion may be going the way of the rotary phone…

• The case for texting

To acknowledge an upside, many parents preach to me that they love texting—because their kids do—so communication with their kids happens where it otherwise might fall silent.  And in these all-at-onceness times, we need all the tools we can get our hands on just to keep up.

Yet this textbook reader often finds that text reading raises more riddles than it solves.  And when one-to-five word communiques replace most other forms, one must ask:

Is what we have here a failure to communicate?”

Example:  Last month, I asked an old acquaintance for a (somewhat involved) favor—via email—which I thought was a patient courtesy versus, say, a phone call.  Days later, I received an embarassed “yes” reply, with the admission that he rarely does email now.  So could we take this conversation on-text?

Of course! Could be my only reply.  But when it comes to texting, I’m all thumbs.  So playing out this arrangement became a new form of time-suck for me, though I happily complied to accommodate his generosity.

• The dying art

Meanwhile, you can’t turn to a legitimate news source these days without stumbling on another story about how we are rewiring our existence, literally and metaphysically.  Students can’t recall simple things when distracted by their digitalia.  Drivers are dying due to DWTexting fools.  And inattentive pedestrians texting or talking on cells are a new target for thugs and thieves.

So forgive those of us that still crave nuance, words, expressions, and I-to-I contact.  I’ll take the life of those Italian friends—who probably have dozens of fun and fervent confrontations a day.

And if I can’t be there, or no one else has the time or attention to talk, really talk, maybe I’ll go for a walk around Lake Calhoun and see if the brave, new conversationalist has a place for me at his table.

Survey sez…

• 32% of parents play computer games with their children every day
• 80% described this as quality time

Source:  PopCap Games

Screen living continues to turn us on.  If 80% of parents say Guitar Hero kicks butt over Guitar Lessons, then bring on Milli Vanilli.  If two out of three play games daily with their children, then bye-bye badminton.

Hey, who can blame the ‘rents?  Our best diversions may have been Donkey Kong, Rockem’ Sockem’ Robots, or perhaps a bike.  As one dad snickered to me when I was barking about our kids’ digital jones,

C’mon.  You’re just jealous ‘cuz they have cooler stuff than you did.”

No doubt.  Still, there are still countless “cool” alternatives awaiting those open to off-screen quality time with their kids…

11  Quality Time Alternatives to Playing Computer Games with Your Children

1. Take guitar lessons and play that thing.
2. Bake a cake.  (Box will do.)
3. Go to outdoor sports event and get noisy.
4. Play cards, backgammon, checkers, or chess.
5. Light a bonfire, with plenty of flaming marshmallows.
6. Chase; young kids love it.
7. Read things out loud.
8. Play catch.
9. Dig out their old 3D toys.
10. Make hand-made cards for faraway friends.
11. Fish.

What’s your idea of quality time?  What would you add to the list?  I’m listening…

Some of us preach the Gospel of Sabbatical and insist your career will be fine—no, better!—with breaks.  I try to apply that lifestyle to my daily grind, which leads to a stubborn regimen of outdoor time, exercise, chillaxing, and unplugging.  Of all of these, unplugging has become the most impossible.  Help!

You can hide, but you can’t run away”

It’s summer.  Dive into it before the long days fade into fall, right? Do more bar-b-que and less Chili’s. Eat more fresh fruits and fewer roots.  Watch a parade, ball game, and fireworks instead of your various SCREENS.

But prepare to pay the price, which, for me, in a matter of a few days, included:

• 755 unread emails
• 2,400 messages in my in-box (which I sweep out regularly)
• Lost messages, a check, and a bill (yay!)
• A disappointed friend whose text invitation I did not notice
• A money mess

And yet, one feels so…attached”

The conundrum thickens.  The more you step away from your (digital) desk, the larger the (proverbial) piles will be when you return.  So it’s little wonder that people seem plugged in 24/7.  Just in the past few days, I’ve witnessed now-common things like…

• A senior citizen swerving while driving…because she was on her cel phone
• Members of my household doing three digital devices…while watching TV
• A gaggle of teen girls at a baseball game…all staring at their “smart” phones
• A young man texting while driving…while eating a Big Mac
• A jam-packed coffee shop…with everybody screen-ing, and nobody talking

I would prefer not to…”

When Herman Mellville’s novella, “Bartleby the Scrivener,” made famous that quote, he presaged how many of us feel about insistent digital demands.  But note that Bartleby’s “preference” is not an outright refusal.

And should you refuse, prepare to pay the price.

And for no one to listen.