Abracadabra

a closer look @ googling

I’ve been wanting to speak on this topic for awhile. It’s been tucked away in an email draft with the subject: Things I Need To Write About #writerproblems. Some of these ideas never see the light of day/make it through my fingers, though most are good. There are without a doubt terrible ideas I’ve had for pieces that should never come into fruition. Still, I like to keep a record of them if not for making myself feel better that I tried but simply for my own personal amusement over their ridiculousness. #writerproblems.

I’ve written in previous posts about how technology has changed so many things for us–culturally, socially, emotionally/mentally/physically/, the list goes on. It has it’s enormously meaningful impact on the world  but comes with dangerous side effects and drawbacks we’re only now starting to understand and accept.

I’m terribly curious by nature and also extremely anxious/strategic (part of the reason it’s taking me so long to get to this idea #overthinkerproblems). It works both for and against me, this very special trait of mine. I breeze through research, knowing the right questions to ask to get the information I need/don’t (good for journalism). I talk to strangers, socialize often and keep chugging along.

Too often I succumb to the darker side of my anxiety/curiosity and I google the shit out of everything. When I came home from buying a new line of products from Clarins (and after evaluating the products in-store and online), I came home to google, “benefits of X product.” I even remember thinking to myself, ‘isn’t this the strangest behavior? Didn’t I just spend nearly an hour in the mall deciding which products I liked, even got a mini-facial in the process to test said products out? Why do I still need to check this out online?’ It was the first time I really took notice of what I was doing. And last month,  I started including more vitamins and supplements in my diet. Most of them need to be taken after a meal. I chose them based on what my multi-vitamins were lacking plus whichever I found would help with muscle/bone strength. Even though I already purchased the vitamins and devised a plan for how I’d space them out throughout the week,  I came back to my Macbook only to read about the benefits of each one of those pills.

What are we doing to ourselves? Have we become so dependent on technology for validation that we stop using our brains? I’ve become addicted to reading about the benefits of the choices I make, mainly when it comes to my health or body. I’m less concerned somehow about the risks but I pore over the good stuff–how drinking enough water can completely revolutionize my skin, what a good nights sleep can do for your body and mind, the goodness that comes from a dedicated exercise regimen, how thoughts can positively or negatively impact your behavior and body, and so many other meaningless searches. ALL information I’m aware exists and will continue doing regardless of those benefits yet continue down the bottomless pit of interneting away.

DISCLAIMER: This isn’t just because I have too much time on my hands.  On days when I’m completely busy with writing, researching, scouring the internet for editors contact information, or just living in India (which requires lots of other types  of busy work) I still find myself seeking this information. I had to ask myself why is it that I keep coming back to this same, silly activity? Is it because I’ve written those listicles or articles on the benefits of x thing? Or, worse yet, do I actually care about those benefits?

After all the products have been purchased, the water drunk, the sleep slept, the pills swallowed, the body remains kind of a mystery and no one knows entirely what’s going on inside of it. I suppose its my own fascination with the mysteries of the body that keep me googling but it’s also my inherent desire to be validated–to know that I’m doing something ‘good’ for myself, that I’m treating my body the best I can and heading in the right direction. Its my own congratulatory pat on my back. As we get older there isn’t always someone around to say, ‘good job’ or ‘right on’ or whatever encouraging words people offer one another. We need to believe on our own accord that the choices we are making ARE for our betterment. We validate ourselves and keep moving forward, no matter what Google says.

Googling out our anxieties and fears is the modern version of Abracadabra. We instantly get answers to whatever thoughts/concerns/questions/fears/frustrations/elations we feel, anything we feel! Magic happens in front of our very eyes and before we know it, we’ve got our fix. We instantly feel better or worse, satisfied or left wanting more.

I’ve had to consciously stop myself from googling the benefits of anything these days. Live and let live, I say. I can’t remember googling to validate before the internet existed. It only started about 1-2 years ago. I wouldn’t sum it up to one particular reason but I do believe Google searching has made us so dependent that we forget we already possess a treasure trove of knowledge in our heads. We don’t need the internet to tell us things we already know but we like that it does. And when we start to need it in order to function, we’ve already become addicts.

I remember a book from my childhood (pre-internet) that lived in the study of our house. It was called, “The Big Book of Tell Me Why.” I can remember feeling like I was witnessing something special when I turned its thin pages, being privy to information others didn’t have, gaining knowledge to things no one knew. Learning something new felt exciting and that book held a power over me, before Ask Jeeves or Google ever existed.

Today I caught myself googling the benefits of a new protein powder I’ve been taking for muscle growth. I knew I’d be taking the supplement even if I read something suspicious (perhaps I’m also looking for reasons to not partake in whatever activity or product I’m searching about) yet I still googled away. I guess I’ve reached the point of no return–I’m officially an information junkie, strictly speaking when it come to google searching about the body. Is there internet rehab ™? Someone make that happen. And also credit it to me. Help!

Book Review: Not That Kind of Girl

Image courtesy of http://www.pigeonsandpeacocks.com/2014/10/not-that-kind-of-girl/
Image courtesy of http://www.pigeonsandpeacocks.com/2014/10/not-that-kind-of-girl/

 

Blog friends: Some exciting news! In the last couple of month I’ve joined a team of contributing writers for India.com in the US. I really enjoy it and I love that the editors are open to stories of all kinds. It’s a nice way for me to explore different topics and see what fits writing-wise.

Please do me a SOLID and check my pieces here: http://us.india.com/author/sgupta/

In the meantime, here’s my latest published post on Lena Dunham’s book “Not That Kind of Girl”

I must admit, when I first watched HBO’s “GIRLS” back in 2012, I wanted to hate it. I heard about the show’s comparisons to “Sex & the City” and I had to know more about its copycat.

I related to the “GIRLS” characters, but what kept me watching was the writer, producer, director and star of the show, Lena Dunham. My admiration for Dunham’s work lead me to quickly pre-order her first book of essays titled “Not That Kind of Girl: A Young Woman Tells You What She’s Learned.” Released on September 30, the book is a compilation of short story essays on topics ranging from Dunham’s artist parents, sexual escapades and navigating the waters of adulthood.

Dunham, a 28-year-old New York City native, is known for her gifted writing, as well as, her raw no frills sex scenes in “GIRLS.” Her book opens with a similar honesty, detailing losing her virginity and non-consensual unprotected sex, an incident she deems as possible rape.

I questioned her choice to use love, sex and all things in between as her first chapter, it felt heavy and even crude. The essays are divided into five sections: Love & Sex, Body, Friendship, Work and Big Picture. Her personal stories are mixed with Buzzfeed style lists, which capture the thing Dunham does best: Making raw emotion humorous and human.

Stories recounting her years of platonic bed sharing communicate the need for companionship and loneliness everyone experiences at some point in time. Chapters like “Emails I would Send If I Were One Ounce Crazier/Angrier/Braver” and “What’s in My Bag” prove for serious laugh-out-loud moments.

Coming from the same generation as Dunham, I absolutely adored her nod to the pre-internet era. Chat room romances (A/S/L anyone?), outdoor adventures and bunk beds at summer camp, Brooklyn before the hippies and gentrification. It felt like home, familiar and nostalgic.

Dunham shares her life post-college, moving back to New York and taking on a cushy job at a high-end baby-clothing store. The specificity of her work will leave readers marveling at her ability to string words together and make them think, “Did this really happen? What is your life?”

Dunham’s pro-feminist stance is a clear theme, among many, throughout the book. It’s unassuming and dauntless. She writes, “I know when I’m dying, looking back, it will be women that I regret having argued with, women I sought to impress, to understand, was tortured by. Women I wish to see again, to see them smile and laugh and say, It was all as it should have been.” In a recent interview, Dunham talks about how her book wasn’t written for women alone, but for men to enjoy as well, given gender equality is a mans issue too.

“Not That Kind of Girl” may not be for the faint of heart. There is sex talk, boy talk, friend drama and eventually a discussion on finding your own happiness. Dunham holds nothing back when it comes to revealing her most embarrassing moments detailed food logs and her vulnerability, which makes for the best kind of read. Dunham is not shy, that’s for sure, and we all now know she is certainly not that kind of girl.

Grace…

Grace

“Here in the Sahyadri forest was an old man, a tribal with no schooling, practicing a highly principled philosophy of life—give when you take; do not take without giving. This was culture at its best. I smiled and gracefully accepted his gift…The Thandappa rose even further in my esteem when he remarked with a twinkle, ‘There is a grace in accepting also.'”