Empty

Some years ago during a department meeting we talked about a shared informational website. One team member complained that when she tried to enter information onto the site, she was blocked. Someone else spoke up to say the data needed to be added in a specific format to work. The first person said she understood the format and it didn’t work. Round and round we went, until it was discovered that some of us had “view only” access while others could “do” work on the site. We came up with the titles of “viewers” and “doers.”

Same meeting, later on: the conversation turned to a lengthy Compliance Alert which laid out rules and processes for an on-going problematic issue. Here again there were divided sides. One group brought up points that contradicted each other, while the other group said they hadn’t even been aware those points existed.

The actual document was produced for dissection, and sure enough, the points at issue were embedded in the overly verbose language.

How was it that one group had latched onto the discrepant items while others had not? We decided to name those two groups as well: “Skimmers” and “Noticers.”

The skimmers had gone through the alert with the mindset that many of us have in this busy life: “How does this affect me?”

The noticers were more concerned about the overall effect on the department, not just their own responsibilities. So they read more deeply to understand how the different components would produce a new end result for the team at large.

I was reminded of that meeting and those issues when I recently read Wired to Create by Carolyn Gregoire and Scott Barry Kaufman. They quote neuroscientist Dr. Richard Davidson as saying, “…the way we live today is causing national attention deficit.”

Dr. Davidson went on to offer that by allowing ourselves to be constantly pulled to check our phones and other electronic gadgets for emails and texts as well as updates on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Snapchat, and news sites, we end up skimming: giving partial, unfocused attention to everything else.

One recent statistic stated  that a typical smart phone user checks his/her phone approximately every six minutes. Do the math. That’s ten times an hour and most of us spend at least twelve hours of wakefulness. That comes to a total of 120 times a day.

In her novel The Accident, author Chris Pavone shares the story of a young child’s funeral. The service has just ended, and the distraught mother is standing off to the side watching through a window as people leave. Almost to a person, as each one passes through the funeral home door and approaches the sidewalk, they reach into a coat pocket or handbag and pull out their cell phones and check to see what has happened in the past hour that absolutely needs their attention RIGHT NOW. Reading that broke my heart a little.

We have become addicted to interrupting our own real lives. And what kind of life is that?

To my readers:  Please share a story about an interaction you would have missed had you been on your phone.