Modern RECALCULATING Energy

I was sitting at a table by the window.

I'd chosen this table and this coffee shop, specifically. Patrons mingled like normal here. The crowd's a respectful one where people type, read, or chit chat jovially over brief lunches. Then, they filter out at a moderately steady clip by late afternoon. It's a great place to work.

I like doing creative work here because it offers just enough social energy to trigger the part of my brain that says, "Hey—focus up, pal" without being mean about it.

And today was podcast editing day.

Everything was running like clockwork until the guy at the table in front of mine was joined by a rather loud guest. The pair of older gentlemen carried the nonchalant bravado you might not expect from their casual T-shirts and white hair, but that also wouldn't surprise you all that much, either. As their banter continued back and forth, their volume increased. It was like watching a verbal tennis volley. Except, instead of a competitive air, there was one of excitement.

I wanted to be mad. I was mad. But only for a bit.

Then, I asked myself why?

Your phone used to just ring.

And you used to actually hear when there was a “knock at the door.” No silenced messages, caller ID, or doorbell camera. Can you imagine the audacity?? These days, interruptions feel offensive if they’re not pre-scheduled. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but I really do get mad when a notification shows up on my phone. I hate that about myself. When the hell did that become normal?

People move through their days now with the baseline adrenaline of someone who just heard siri scream “RECALCULATING” while driving through a foreign city. Watching the gentlemen at the table settle into a gleeful, almost mischievous sense of camaraderie, I felt... shame.

Are all of these digital nudges really better than if we just let ourselves be surprised? I know, I hear it, too—it sounds ridiculously counterintuitive. But I think our nervous systems might actually be more fried from the constant pings, dings, and buhzzingsss.

Sighing slightly, I found myself smirking as I turned up the volume in my headphones. And then I had a wild thought: maybe it’s not entirely AI’s fault that modern writing seems flat… seriously, how many ways are we supposed to build suspense with:

“she begrudgingly hit refresh on her email”

“they let out an exorbitant sigh before opening their laptop”

“reaching for his phone, he winced at the thought of unread slack notifications”

Eventually the pair of friends slid their chairs back and made their way to the door. Watching them walk out, I wondered what I'd do if instead of a glowing phone screen, my days were filled with phones that rang while there were knocks at the door?

onward.

-dmac