Tag: physical

  • Disembodiment: The Quiet Epidemic of Modern Life

    Disembodiment: The Quiet Epidemic of Modern Life

    Why screen life feels hollow, and how to come back to your body

    When Prompt Engineering Isn’t Enough

    For a while, because of its ability to reason at such an impressive level, I thought AI might be one of the better inventions of the modern age. But life isn’t just reasoning and logic. Much of life makes no sense at all. Much of our reasoning, even, is illogical and based instead on feelings. AI can’t feel. Reasoning is no longer a problem for humanity. AI solves that. But disembodiment has become more a problem than ever. AI, with all of its brilliant reasoning, can’t help us when our feelings defy logic, or when we lose touch with our own bodies.

    When you need to scream into a pillow or go for a run to let off some steam, all of the ChatGPT prompt engineering in the world won’t solve your problem. Worse, it could distract you from the problem, enabling it to go unsolved and fester like an untreated wound. That is disembodiment, losing touch with the signs and feelings and intuitions of your physical body.

    Our Technological Landscape

    Most technologies haven’t done much to improve our actual well-being. Sure, there are specific tools that have made certain things easier, but how many have truly made us better off than our ancestors? And even then, are we really better off?

    Modern medical technology might help us live longer. But does it help us live better, more virtuous, more fulfilled lives? And would we even need help living longer if we spent our days outside, away from screens, moving our bodies and eating the way our ancient ancestors did?

    Maybe our technologies just solve problems that other technologies created. We use blood glucose monitors to keep diabetes in check, but diabetes itself is a disease often caused by the sedentary life style enabled by technology and the hyper-palatable-but-devoid-of-nutrition foods developed as a sort of technology themselves. Maybe life was better before all of it.

    I still believe it’s possible to use our tools wisely, especially if we cultivate virtues like temperance and prudence. With intention, we can benefit from technology without letting it hollow us out.

    But after about a year of testing and experimenting with AI, I’m starting to lose hope that it’s actually going to improve our lives in any meaningful way.

    A Hopeful View of the Future

    Still, despite my reservations, I haven’t given up hope entirely.

    In the long run, I see a positive light. If we ever reach that future where artificial general intelligence handles all of our labor, leaving us only the most human work to do, that could be beautiful. The only jobs left might be the ones centered on connection and compassion: listening, empathizing, consoling, comforting, being present, loving. The kind of work that often goes unnoticed now might become the most valuable.

    What AI Can’t Do

    But we’re not there yet. We might never get there. Maybe this whole AI movement is just another tech trend, another wave of hype.

    Even without general intelligence, the AI we have today can do some impressive things. It can act like a therapist or a friend. It can solve complex problems, teach new skills, generate art and poetry and recipes. It can write jokes. It can organize your life into a neat PDF.

    It’s convincing, even comforting at times.

    But it can’t live for you.

    That’s the hard part. That’s the part we have to do ourselves. And in this digital age, it’s exactly what we need most: embodiment.

    AI can help us plan. It can suggest habits. It can make a checklist. But it can’t walk the path. It can’t be in your body. It can’t be present in your world. That’s your work.

    Embodiment Is No Longer the Default

    In the past, embodiment was just how life worked. Everything was physical and analog. We didn’t have usernames or avatars. We were who we were; flesh and blood, personality and presence, names given by our parents, bodies shaped by our lives.

    Now, embodiment is a practice. Life has become so digitized that living in the real world requires intentional effort. We have to choose it.

    And embodiment matters. It’s not just a poetic ideal. It means fewer mental health issues, fewer physical health issues. It means clarity. It means connection to reality. It means being truly, fully alive.

    Embodiment matters and, if we are to be embodied, we must be intentional about it.

    Why Embodiment Matters in the Digital Age

    When we’re out of touch with our bodies, it affects everything. We might feel anxious or tired in ways that rest doesn’t fix. Emotions can pile up inside without a way out. It’s like we’re always buzzing, but not in a good way.

    The psychiatrist, Bessel van der Kolk, who wrote The Body Keeps the Score, talks about how stress and trauma live in the body. And how healing comes through the body too. It comes through movement, breath, and feeling.

    When we’re disconnected, we’re also more easily influenced. More easily overwhelmed. It’s harder to feel clear and grounded.

    Simple Practices to Reconnect With Your Body

    The good news is, it doesn’t take much to come back. You don’t need to escape your life or overhaul everything. You just need to take a few small, intentional steps to come back to your body:

    • Go barefoot. On grass or dirt or sand. It helps your feet remember the ground.
    • Touch cold water. A cool splash of water on your face or a quick dip in a stream can really wake up your senses.
    • Write by hand. No screens. Just pen and paper. Let it be slow.
    • Move a little. Stretch, sway, lie on the floor. No rules. Just move however feels good.
    • Use your hands. Make something—bread, a little drawing, a pot of soup. Anything.
    • Breathe and rest. Sit still. Feel your breath. Let silence be a friend, not something to avoid.

    These are ways home, back to embodiment.

    Our Bodies Matter

    I believe we’re not just minds or spirits. We’re souls deeply interconnected with bodies. That matters. Jesus Christ didn’t come as a theory or a thought. He came in flesh. He walked, touched, healed, got tired, wept, laughed, bled.

    Your body matters too. It’s part of your life. With yourself. With others. You don’t have to live floating above everything. You can land. You can be here. Come back to yourself. And if you’re feeling far away right now, that’s okay too. You’re not broken. Just a bit disembodied. And you can return, gently but steadily, to embodiment.

    This has been on my heart for a while. I hope it helps you find a part of yourself that may have been lost.

  • Beauty or Comfort? How a Conservatory Visit Changed My Perspective

    Beauty or Comfort? How a Conservatory Visit Changed My Perspective

    A trip to Phipps Conservatory and the wonders of real world beauty.

    I almost stayed home last night. I almost spent the night in front of my laptop, being “productive.” My sister asked me to visit Phipps Conservatory. I said, “no.” But after the idea bounced around in my head for an hour or two, I changed my mind. After dinner, we ventured out into Phipps’ world of natural beauty and wonder.

    But first we had to get through brutally cold temperatures, winter’s darkness, and a little snow. Those discomforts initially deterred me. It seemed easier to keep hibernating. I’m glad I braved the winter weather because, well, the incredible beauty waiting inside was worth every shiver. Here’s a taste of what I was in for.

    Yet, if I had seen that picture before I went, it probably wouldn’t have swayed me. It’s a cool picture, but it doesn’t capture the incredible smells in each of the conservatory buildings. The one where trees were in bloom smelled like a spring day. The one full of ferns smelled like summer trips to my grandfather’s cabin. The air was fresh and light, a reminder that digital media simply cannot capture the fullness of such beauty.

    It makes me wonder if, by spending so much time in the digital world we are losing something important. Don’t get me wrong, I am a huge fan of the internet and cool productivity tools and connecting with old friends online. But there’s not much room there for real, tangible experiences, moments that fill life with awe and wonder. I must have said, “I wonder…” thirty times while my sister and I walked around the conservatory.

    The dessert room, with its strange cacti creeped me out a bit. I wonder what’s inside those big round ones.

    The intricate bonsai trees left me in awe. I wonder how many years the artist spent shaping such masterpieces.

    My sister said these orchids look like those jumping frog toys. To me, they look like alien spiders. I wonder what planet they came from.

    I wonder, when was the last time you stepped away from your screen to experience something real, something you could see, smell, or touch?

    For the past couple weeks, I had been hibernating, working on projects, working hard to become successful and wealthy, reading books and blog posts, watching YouTube videos, organizing my task lists and goals and bookmarks and files, listening to lo-fi music, and hibernating. And all that stuff is great. They even had lo-fi music playing at the conservatory too. It set the vibe nicely. And while no photo can replicate the smells and textures of real life, sharing this experience online reminds me how both worlds can intersect to inspire and connect.

    But, man, am I glad I ended up saying “yes” to visiting the conservatory with my sister. The real, tangible experience of beauty touches the soul in ways that bits and bytes cannot. Not only did the little trip refresh me, it reminded me why life is such a wonderful gift. It renewed my heart. It gave me a fresh perspective.

    I hope you have the opportunity to get out into the world and experience real beauty sometime, and soon. Maybe you can take a trip to a conservatory near you. Or maybe you can visit a museum. Or maybe, at least, you can go for a walk and pause for a moment to wonder, to let awe and curiosity renew your heart, just as it did mine.