thinking of depression

I have been thinking a lot about depression lately. It is something that needs to be talked about as well as thought about. We've just finished a 20,000+ mile trip around this beautiful country. We have visited so many friends and met new folks that it has been overwhelming at times.


What has stood out in the visits and sharing times is the shadow of depression. Normally it isn't something that pops up in discussion, but in the past few months I have discovered it is widespread and serious. Is it a type of silent epidemic? Either those we visit are struggling, or someone they love is in the depths.


Every return to the US, Phil and I learn the new words, food facts, and medical trends of our country. This visit I am unsettled to hear how widespread depression is:  among my age group and in the church. 


Depression is no stranger to me. Mom has suffered since her early 50s. She was diagnosed before the understanding of chemical imbalances. She endured years of counseling, and when that failed, years of electro-shock therapy. Her brain is now  suffering from the unforeseen consequences of that ineffective treatment. She has dementia symptoms, but not dementia. And she is still depressed. Only drugs helped her and the careful analysis necessary for drugs to work isn't as diligently extended to those on medicare.


Where am I going with this? Not sure. Depression is something we need to face head on. It is real; it is not a spiritual issue; it is unbearably painful. How can we non-depressed come alongside and encourage our friends in depression? What can we say and what should we not say? 


I can muster a few good guesses. Romans 8:28 doesn't make anyone FEEL any better, just that they ought to feel better. And no, no, no, we don't know how you feel. 


At the present moment, I have eight friends in various stages of depression. This is a serious and legitimate burden for me to carry. But how do I do this biblically? Marcia?

I doubt that depression is any more widespread now than it was in the past. The church today, at least in the States, is more honest about difficult subjects than it was. And more introspective.

Depression is a controversial subject in the church. Factions of believers disapprove of anti-depressant drugs and even Christian counseling. They believe the Word of God should be enough for us. I agree that God's Word is a powerful tool in our lives, but not used as a weapon against those who are struggling with something they cannot control.

I believe that depression, like birth defects, childhood cancer, and all illness, is a result of the fall. Because it's invisible, it may appear more controllable. Its causes are, most likely, many—spiritual, of course, but also physical, situational, and genetic.

Karen, you, though unaffected by depression, want to know how to care for those who are. Your concern alone meets a need. So many people don't care about what they haven't experienced. To express concern and to pray often for your depressed friends are responses they will appreciate—if not now, in the future.

Depressed people often believe or fear the worst. They need to hear the truth, even if they disagree. They are not in a position to believe “...whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right...” but you are, and you can speak those words into them.

In my opinion, the biggest blessing you can bestow on them is to persevere in your concern. Depression, like grief, can last indefinitely.

Written by one who knows--

Marcia

Hungry for Violence #2

A few years ago, David and I decided to watch some movie classics. We're not much for old movies, but we thought Alfred Hitchcock's thrillers would be a good place to start. We watched two before we ended that pursuit. Boring.

We've come a long way, haven't we? As our culture becomes more jaded, more easily bored, moviemakers have had to step up their game to keep pace. Implied violence has become just plain violence. Implied sex and nudity are no longer implied. The western culture has developed an appetite for blood and perversion. Why? I think it's because it makes them feel more alive, more real.

I've just finished reading Catching Fire, the second in the Hunger Games trilogy. I found it more violent than the first. Written images don't normally affect me, but I find myself still repulsed by a passage describing the taste of blood and sea water produced by the slit throat of one of Katniss's friends. And it makes me sad that this book series is targeted at middle and early high school children.

Although I will not forbid it, I will discourage my own 13-year-old son from reading the series. Many of his friends have already read it, though, and seem unaffected. Is that a good or a bad thing?
--Marcia


Well, Marcia, I don't know if it's good or bad. I think it is sad. The trend toward bloodlust is disturbing. It says all sorts of things about us. It also may be linked to what is going on in our hearts. I have a young friend who was feeling numbed by everything around her; she was afraid because she could not feel. So she began cutting herself when she heard that this helped you feel. I'm sad to say I had not even heard of this phenomenon before, and she shared the path she was trying to take back to "normal."


As humans we are intrigued by the painful destruction of our bodies. Why? And the more we observe it, the more jaded we become. Animals don't do this. They don't torture victims; they don't have a sadistic streak. Why do we? 


Personally, I think this perversion, as you termed it, is proof that we are not on an evolutionary scale. We are not merely superior animals. We are something different altogether. Something made in God's image. God has a fallen creature who has set himself up as God's enemy. One very effective way for this enemy to "get at" God is to undermine the divine in our make-up. If we become wrapped up in the violent mutilation of God's gift to us: our bodies in-breathed with His breath, we fail to see Him and our purpose.


I have bewailed the voyeuristic thrill-seekers who exploit this crookedness in us. We are crooked souls trying to stay up straight in a world which delights in bentness and hypes crookedness. Can we see a malevolent agenda here which we should be fighting? 


Marcia, am I over-spiritualizing?

hunger games

Hi Marcia, about those blue highlights. Good idea, you'd fit right in at the Capitol of HG.

I read the HG trilogy in January (sometimes you do strange things when your kids ask you to). It wasn't a burden, I thought they were decently written for "young adolescent" books. 

What struck me was the frustration of Gale with his obvious solution: if no one watched them, their games would fail. I cannot tell you how many times I've thought those same things as the images of reality TV shows which require the elimination of a "team" member each week or each show assaults viewers. 

What is it about someone else's pain which causes us to look more intently? I recall one of those shows in which a man actually cried because he could not choose whom to eliminate because they all had become friends. Another team member commented on how childish any one was who would not do what it took to win.

So are we trading in our human nature to be titillated and entertained?

I have to say, it was a very good movie. It asked some important questions. The books do, too, but in a way that allows us to put off coming up with answers. 

Part of our culture has become voyeuristic--media has made it so simple. We are no longer living, we're watching others live. We are making choices--and I wonder how deliberated they are. 

In your last personal blog post (strengthen the things that remain), you brought out the fact that you made choices which changed the direction your life was going. You didn't draw the victim card and despair. I guess I'm concerned that too much on-looking will affect us.

--Karen

Voyeuristic competition isn't new. Sports are a type, aren't they? Talent competitions have been around forever. Most of it has been rooting for the "home team" or one's personal favorite. In the 70's the "Gong Show" reflected a change, though. Competitors were displayed to mock.


Why the change? I think our culture has become generally more cynical. It's OK to have favorites, but better if you can ridicule the opposition. An atmosphere of disrespect reigns. Caricatures of American presidents have become derisive, mocking. 


In Hunger Games, the "losers" were hardly 3-dimensional characters. Katniss and Peeta won because of their skill. And none of their "kills" was purposeful or premeditated. Collins gives us a pair of likeable kids to identify with and root for. 


I think the nature of the competition itself (murder) is a subject to be addressed. But that's another blog.


--Marcia

more information=less knowledge #3

Hey Marcia, no, you're not fooling yourself.


I hear you on all counts. Yes, we did research like that "in the olden days." I recall the piles of books--some of which just weren't what they promised. I, too, set them aside after a once over.


That kind of browsing, which still involved picking up a volume, opening it, scanning contents, is in fact light years from the kind of browsing we do on the Net now.


It may feel similar, but-- 
1. it is faster; our brains don't have the orientation time it takes us to put one book down and pick up another when we jump to hyperlinks
2. it is generated by google or some other being "facilitating" our search for specific data
3. our interruptions were pre-planned appointments or a real person with skin on leaning over our library table


Those are all significant. Why?


"On line we follow scripts written by others--efficient and tidy
but we lose personal initiative, creativity, and whimsy." (Carr)


It does give us amazing short cuts to finding facts. It is definitely not as messy or complicated as several hours in the library. We become far more efficient doing cognitive tasks. And that efficiency makes me feel good about myself.


This very efficiency is part of the irony of Google. It aims to make reading efficient and in the process prevents us from being deep readers, with attention, able to interpret what we read. I see us "strip mining for content" as opposed to "excavating for meaning." We focus on the cognitive tasks as opposed to the deeper mysteries that require contemplation.


Truthfully, there are times the research isn't that deep. But we are in danger of a habitual attitude toward answering our questions. "Google it."


We get more information in less time. And we have less time to use that information or think about and evaluate it because there is so much more information.


I'm not anti-google. I do it random times a day. It's a great time saver and it can lead me off into rabbit trails to waste time. Nicholas Carr advises us that as a species we do not have control over either the "path or pace" of technology. This is not a battle to take on.


Technology is moving along with a momentum we cannot imagine. 


However, each one of us as an individual can make a reasonable decision what and how to use and how to let it influence his/her life. I became aware that I was not even realizing what was happening. I was delighting in the speed and quantity of what I "accomplished" and forgot to prioritize. I had less integrity as a human being than when I opened books and copied words (by hand!) on 3x5 cards.

--Karen

 I doubt that anyone has ever accused you of lacking integrity, dear friend. But I will let you have the last word on this subject. My mind is wandering and I'm seriously considering those blue highlights for my hair.


Yours truly,
Marcia

This is your brain on the Internet

If I had been born 30 years later, I surely would have blue highlights in my hair, and probably would have been diagnosed with Attention Deficit Disorder. In my day, I called it a short attention span. Maybe the proper name for it now is Internet Brain.

Waiting at a doctor's receptionist's desk, we heard the woman in front of us say, “I can't make another appointment. I don't have my planner with me.”

My husband whispered, “She writes things down?” and we smiled. I already had my phone open to the calendar application. As soon as I had the next appointment booked, I could have logged into my email account from any computer in the world and checked the date.

I love the Internet, but I love reading books, too. Every time I move to a different house, I purge my book collection. Books are just too heavy to move; they take up too much room. Every book I buy on Kindle is held, weightlessly, on a server somewhere, seconds away from my summoning.

Here are the advantages of physical books, according to Nicholas Carr in The Shallows: What the Internet Is Doing to Our Brains:

“You can take a book to the beach without worrying about sand getting in its works. You can take it to bed without being nervous about it falling to the floor should you nod off. You can spill coffee on it. You can sit on it. You can put it down on a table, open to the page you’re reading, and when you pick it up a few days later it will still be exactly as you left it. You never have to be concerned about plugging a book into an outlet or having its battery die.”

Seriously, Mr. Carr? Last night, back aching from the day's activities, I lay flat on my back, reading your book. On my iPhone. My arms didn't tire, and I didn't drop it on my nose. And when I turned it on after an interruption, it brought me right back where I left off.

Was America ever a country full of “deep” readers? An evening walk around the block when I was a teenager revealed the same phenomenon as it does now: a warm, flickering glow in the window of almost every home. America is watching television, or it is on the Internet. The only ethical differences are the laws restricting content. I worry more about the ready availability of pornography than I do about the effect the Internet has on the human brain.

As Carr says, “Google is neither God nor Satan.”

We are only victims if we choose to be. Am I naïve?

--Marcia
Hey Marcia,
We are only victims if we choose to be--as long as we know that we're making a choice.


I, too, prefer to read my bedtime book on my iPhone. It's much lighter, backlit, and I only rarely lose my place and have to go scrolling through pages to find where I left off.
I don't think Mr. Carr is talking about reading a digital book as opposed to a paper book so much as he deplores the loss of linear thinking. Come to think of it, maybe linear thinking isn't all it's cracked up to be. 
But he does give it the credit for the imagination of the Renaissance, the rational of the Enlightenment, the inventiveness of the Industrial Revolution and the subversiveness of Modernism. (put that all in quotation marks, please.)
The "fear" if we can call it that, is that these marvelously developed linear minds, with the capacity for focused calm and deliberate pondering, are being traded in for dis-jointed thoughts and over-lapping input which short each other out. 
Now, since I wrote that paragraph, my daughter has texted. I've responded and with two taps have sent her a phone number she needed. Oh, this Net stuff is marvelous and I shudder to think we would ever go back.
You have a point about watching tv, though. People watch tv more than they read. That has been going on for a good while. Now they watch Jane Austen and believe they've "read" her.
The very guy who invented the amplifier which made broadcasting possible wrote, in 1952:
"A melancholy view of our national mental level is obtained from a survey of the moronic quality of the majority of today's radio programs." --deForest
Are we doomed to being reduced to the lowest common denominator? Might not linear thinking and a little reading be a hopeful alternative to moronic broadcasters?
We may only be victims of our choices, but do we know the consequences of our choices?

the myth of multi-tasking #2

We are like--

"Lab rats pressing levers to get tiny pellets of social and intellectual nourishment." p. 117


Another powerful image from Carr's book on the effect of the Net on our brains. This blog focus is on the "multi-tasker." I've considered myself one ever since motherhood, probably since college. It was a matter of pride. I could keep a couple balls in the air and accomplish things in the process. Back then I was doing laundry (which required waiting) or baking bread (more waiting) or cooking a meal (sometimes waiting). You get the picture.


Today multi-tasking can be done in one chair, at the computer, bouncing between Facebook, google, email, and any number of web pages for "research." I can play my turn in scrabble, check out a youTube, look up something in Snopes, write note to a friend, and even wish all my friends happy birthday without having to look at a calendar. And somehow, I am convincing myself that I am more efficient and I get more done. I have deceived myself.


Let's look at the facts about what is happening when we are on the Net. Take research, for example.  We are trying to learn more about some item or issue. We google it, find a plethora of "hits" and start clicking. We spend an average of 19-25 seconds at a site. We come across hyperlinks and jump to another page. We are no longer reading, we are "power browsing." As our eyes skim across words, we think we are reading. Our brains become more shallowly engaged as we load on the pages and verbiage. We are amazed at how nimble our brains are; how quickly they leap from one text to the next. We don't realize that in the nimbleness, we have forfeited deep and creative thinking. 


Cory Doctorow calls the Net an "ecosystem of interruption technologies." As we jump from link to link, the content of each page is fragmented, our concentration is disrupted.  Each mental shift requires a type of reorientation. 


Researchers have learned that: people who read linear text (like books) can--

comprehend

learn

and remember 

more

than those with texts peppered with links to other texts. The Hyperlinks confuse the flow, make the reading jumpy, and as a result:

the medium obscures the meaning.

Interestingly, the number of links is directly proportional to the disorientation and overload for our poor brains trying to cope.

Multi-tasking these days is:

cursory

hurried

distracted 

and superficial.

Why? because the Net's stimuli are:

repetitive

intensive

interactive

addictive.

--The bad news is:

serious.

This type of stimuli

alters brain circuitry.

It is mind-altering technology.

That is subject for another blog. Let's end on a light note:

Heavy multi-taskers:

---are quite easily distracted

---have less control over the working memory part of their brains

                (keep shoving stuff out for more new stuff to go in)

---are less able to concentrate.

They find themselves "suckers for irrelevancy."

Marcia?

--Karen

I love information. When I encounter a subject which interests me, I binge on information. 

Fifteen years ago, I spent many evenings at the library. I would take every book which contained pieces of the information I desired, surround myself with piles of them, and skim each one until I found what I was looking for. Some of the books I set aside after less than a minute--not so relevant. Others had only a little I wanted to read, and others had whole chapters. 

Now I have Google. I use it in the same way. I evaluate sources, check keywords, skim articles and click on links. And if I am interrupted, or have an appointment to keep, I can go back to my information gathering at any time. 

Has this altered the wiring of my brain? Maybe. 


If I want to read a book, I am still capable, and in theory I have more time to do so because I haven't spent the evening at the library.


Am I fooling myself?


--Marcia

welcoming frenziedness into our souls #1

Yes, you read it correctly. And "frenziedness" isn't even a word yet. Give it a few minutes.

That was the parting shot of Nicholas Carr in his book, "The Shallows: what the internet is doing to our brains" which I read yesterday afternoon. He makes some very powerful points and has offered much food for thought. But culturally we seem to be in junk food mode, preferring to grab hyperlink snacks and bolt them down rather than savor a several course meal and reflect over coffee with friends.

I recommend the book, but I know you probably won't have time to read it. I know I didn't have time. I made the time. In a few blogs, I'd like to briefly touch on some of his key points: linear thinking, reading, interruptions, multi-tasking, and the blurring of man and machine.

First things first. Priorities.

C. S. Lewis said,  "You can't get second things by putting them first; you can get second things only by putting first things first."

What does that have to do with anything? With the internet? 

Quite a bit.

In order to put first things first, we have to know what first things are. But we are in the process of losing the ability to know what first things are. Linear thinking is becoming a lost art. "The Net," Carr warns, "seizes our attention only to scatter it." p 118

In ways we don't understand, the circuits of our brains are being rerouted to accommodate the fast pace of information flow from the Net.  Torrents of information gush across our screens: fountains or  tsunamis? What, if anything, can we do about it?

I believe knowing our values is extremely important in dealing with this new technology. Then comes the "how to implement" question.

We are keeping these short because part of the struggle is we don't have "time" to spend in deep reading. And deep reading is what will help us find some of what we have lost.

Marcia, any thoughts?

--Karen

Dear Karen, when you suggested that I read Carr's book I was dismayed. I have 3 books going now--one fiction, one somewhat inspirational, and one on spiritual disciplines. Yet there are many days in which I don't pick even one of them up.

I checked the website of my local library, and their one copy of the book had been checked out. Rather than reserve it, I checked Amazon and found that I could buy the book on Kindle for only about $8. So I did it.

It took me 15 seconds to buy, and the book was immediately available (through the Cloud) on both my MacBook and my iPhone.

And I giggled. The Internet may be destroying my brain, but I love it to pieces.

My older children were teenagers before the Internet was widely available. I read to them daily. One day I began to read Robinson Crusoe. They needed encouragement with some books. "Just listen. You'll get into it." They begged me to stop. Honestly, after a few chapters, my own droning was putting me to sleep. We never finished it. A classic, I'm sure, but we didn't have the patience to read it.


How much of our complaints about the Internet stem from the fact that, as time marches on, we want it to stand still?

My iPhone tells me that I've only read 16% of The Shallows. Maybe I'll skim a little more and comment on our next post.

--Marcia