Being something of a technophile, I have a tendency to evangelize the joys of technology. Quite often people say, as they avert their eyes a little and sometimes blush, that they just aren't "computer people." They say it like it's an ethics violation if they don't sport an e-mail address, competitively bid on eBay, and buy all their petfood online. Without these things, they figure they're behind the curve, and will be confused when baud or RAM or something else DVD come up in conversation. And they might be right about that. The real question is not whether they will be able to exchange software tips with me, because they won't be able to. The real question is whether being able to do that is important at all.

Risking the wrath of techheads everywhere, I say it isn't. Computers and e-mail and the internet are just tools. If they are tools that help you in your work, like they do for me being a columnist and all, great! If not, there is no shame in choosing the tools you prefer, be they paintbrushes or saucepans or an ability to listen. The only shame is in allowing yourself to feel embarrassed. It's true that you will miss out on some things, but we all miss out on the things we didn't choose for ourselves. I miss out everyday on the joys of gardening (Yuck - sweating and kneeling in the sun), the raptures of traveling (Yeah - carsick all the way) and the delights of portabello mushrooms (I only just worked up to the button kind). So what if I miss out on these things? So what!

Technology, in and of itself, is not meaningful in any emotional or spiritual way. Actually nothing, in and of itself, is meaningful in any emotional or spiritual way -- but that's another column. What it can be is a tool to tell your sister in New Jersey about your new trenchcoat with the brown leather collar, or snag a pair of purple velour Reeboks on an online auction, or maybe reserve a baby sunglow cornsnake from someplace sunny in Texas. Having the freedom to do these things is important to me, but if they, along with the rest of the stuff that computers offer, aren't important to you, then they aren't - and anyone who tells you otherwise if full of... themselves.

But no matter how important they are, they are still not the stuff of real interpersonal connection. That real stuff is the link between you and your heart, between you and the people close to you, and between you and Spirit. That is, what you feel when you are laying in the arms of someone you love, and you see the vulnerability in their eyes. That is, when you stop trying to get your friend to talk about "that spiritual stuff" and just let them be who they are, maybe without any of that spiritual stuff. It's when you get a gift for your dad that you know he'll really like, rather than something that was just cheap or convenient.

What's important is that while you are breathing, here this very moment, you stop and notice the beauty of your surroundings. These things won't come from having e-mail any more than they will come from having a newer car, a bigger house, or any of the other stuff that people think will make them happier if they just got it already. Objects and hobbies and habits are all just outer manifestations of the you within. To live true to myself, I must be on intimate terms with my own soul and live by my beliefs even when I'm tempted. Only then do I feel like I can really connect with others, and with spirit. And no matter how much I play on my computer, there is never any doubt that the real Spirit lies within me, waiting to be touched not by a new Palm Pilot, but by love.

As a certified techhead, I hereby give you permission to not use technology if you don't want to, and to make that choice free of twenty-first century guilt. Forget e-mail, rather bake some chocolate kiss cookies for the woman down the street who just finished unpacking her u-haul. Skip the websurfing, rather go sit under a tree and read a Robert Parker mystery with characters who leap out of the pages and crawl right into your dreams. Don't bother bidding against me in that online auction, rather sing "Twist and Shout" in the shower, loud enough for your neighbors to hear. If you want to - don't even use a computer at all - write your journals by hand and to hell with all of them who says you should do otherwise!

What really counts is that you find some joy today, this minute, this hour, and let it tingle all the way down your spine. If you can do that just once today, the technologies of this millennium will reveal themselves to be what they truly are - just tools in making our lives a little different, a little better maybe, or maybe not. You decide.

Copyright June, 2001