Web 2.0 Summit Map and Wooden Laptops

Here are two awesome things I found today. First, the Web 2.0 Summit Map, which is absolutely ingenious and engaging. Click the image to navigate through the data layers of today's internet leaders.

And the second thing was a wooden laptop/chalkboard. I'm so getting one for church.

Two very random and inspiring things today - it's nice to see creativity at work, on both the digital canvas and natural medium.

Please pass the focus

Whoa, blogger updated its interface. Definitely more simple. Definitely more Google.

It's fitting because I am focusing on focus now. As I speak type, I am printing "Focus: A simplicity manifesto in the Age of Distraction". I'm going to read this and see where it takes me. I'm starting here because, well, because the book is free and I just discovered it in my newsfeed. I already know what I need to do, I just need to get the momentum to do it.

He died that we might live... today

Arise and sing to his great name,
Who died that we might live.

I’ve heard this phrase so many times that I don’t listen anymore, like hearing wind through the trees. I don’t know if it’s because I’ve been astonished by the growth of my little boy and how “lively” he is becoming or because I read a sobering article today about a man’s last blog post before succumbing to cancer, but these words literally stopped my breath today while I listened to Rejoice! A Glorious Sound Is Heard in my drab little cubicle at work. It is not just referring to salvation from death and sin. It is talking about living, that thing that we’re doing everyday. Like right now. His death was part of a larger plan that certainly did not end at his death – but that was fulfilled because of his death. He died that we might live today, as well as in a future place beyond this mortal existence. He died that we be not dead to others, dead to ourselves, dead to the needs and wants of the neighborhood and community and world. That we might be infused with life through the Spirit, with vibrancy through the Light of the Son, with intellect and conscience and compassion instead of solely instinct and appetites and chemistry. That we might feel the sun on our skin and the taste the sweet fruit of the trees and see the rich colors of fall and hear the stream gurgling by. That we might love unconditionally and hate occasionally and experience the breadth and depth of emotions between. “That we might live” is not referring to the future but to this very moment, that we might experience the sensations of spirit and body in one coalescent being, from the bumps and grooves of the keys under our fingers to the enormity of thunderstorms and tsunamis and bad relationships. To live is to experience, defined as such in conversation and scripture, and this whole experience of living would never have been afforded to us without the willingness of One to plan it, create it, experience it, overcome it and eventually throw it all in the flames and raise it up again in a purified and perfect state. The beauty of the plan is that we don’t have to wait until that day of burning and rebirth to feel the power of life in our veins; He died that we might live today. That is the promise and blessing of the Gospel - that this life is the time to live and that heaven is already here. Being caught up in chariots of fire headed towards the sky will just be another day in the process of true living, if we but recognize and embrace the life in us today and the Source from whence it came.

We are losing our focus on Focus

 I just read an article in good ol' Mashable today about how multitasking is actually detrimental to our productivity - it's an illusion that we can do more than one thing simultaneously (in most cases).  According to the article, multitasking is only possible when two conditions are met:

First, one of the tasks has to be so ingrained that no focus is necessary, and secondly, they involve different types of brain processing... We live in a culture that trumpets the value of doing many things at once — that multitasking is an asset or strength. As noted above, it only leads to decreased productivity.

The author centered her comments around our hyper-connected world of mobile devices, but I think that it's applicable to many other aspects of our life. It reminds me of a Harvard Business Review article I read a few years ago about managing our energy, not our time:

To recharge themselves, individuals need to recognize the costs of energy-depleting behaviors and then take responsibility for changing them, regardless of the circumstances they’re facing.

Multitasking falls into "energy-depleting behavior" if you ask my honest opinion.  So I'm going to quit.  I'm going to see multitasking for what it really is and just focus on one thing at a time.  Needless to say, I'm feeling a little spent these days.  I need to rediscover recharge exercises and re-energizing routines.  And I need to be there and make the present my priority.  But first I need a nap.

Wisdom and order

 I have always been a fan of Mosiah 4:27:

And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order.

Maybe it's because I am was a runner, but the imagery is very clear to me.  I hear this quoted all the time, as well: "don't run faster than you have strength" which surely stems from this verse.  This has been on my mind a lot lately, as I feel my strength depleting, and the question as to whether I am running faster than I have strength is constantly at the forefront of my thoughts.  Over the weekend, something hit me that made me rethink my interpretation of this scripture.  All this time, I've understood this scripture to effectively say "slow down, you're movin' too fast..." but it actually doesn't say that at all.  The directive here is not about running, but about seeing that things are done in wisdom and order.  See that things are done, as in completed or finished, in the proper order and with prudence, so that over the long haul - hence the mention of diligence - we can win the prize.  Running illustrates the concept perfectly; the things required of us in this life will be long and drawn-out, not a quick sprint and we're finished.  We shouldn't run faster than we have strength, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't run fast, or even very fast.  The verse ends with a reiteration of the concept all things must be done in order, allowing no leeway for complacence - aside from the well-understood in order, let us not miss the operative phrase here, that all things must be done. Period.

So this scripture, which once brought me comfort when I felt weak and slow, now motivates me to try even harder to work smart as well as hard.  Wisdom and order trump speed, and diligence leads to the prize.  My efforts though feeble now must move forward with more structure and discipline to accomplish all that is required of me - all things must be done - rather than claim I am running too fast and excuse myself to sit on the side awhile.  I know that God will support me as I try, and I can take comfort in the thought that when I used to run, I was always last place at the beginning of the race, but somehow caught up in the end.

The geospatial revolution, or why I'm getting a degree in geography

When I disclose to someone that I am working on my MA thesis in "Geography", I often get the lifted eyebrow and the "Oh." response, like when you excitedly ask about your friend's pet dog only to find out that it was hit by a car the night before. "Oh." Some venture a "Why?" but usually we fumble for a more comfortable topic.

This is not exclusively an outsider problem, either. I was sitting in a graduate seminar last semester and someone dropped the "relevance" question. Is geography still a relevant discipline? Is it a discipline at all, or just a quaint combination of many fields? If it's not relevant, how can we make it so? One student said with zeal, "We just need to make ourselves known so that more people know what geographers do!!" A seasoned classmate calmly replied, "But what do geographers do?" Beat. "Oh." We all quickly turned back to the original discussion subject and let the elephant take its seat in the corner.

I came across a set of video presentations that demonstrate geography's position of relevance in today's world. For all those who ventured the "Why?" question, here's your answer. This is why I'm getting a degree in geography:

Here are the other episodes:

• Geospatial Revolution / Episode Two
• Geospatial Revolution / Episode Three
• Geospatial Revolution / Episode Four

Unplugged

A thought hit me the other day: what if I completely unplugged myself from society and lived on 100 wooded acres in Alaska, and just lived off the land and the work of my own two hands?  And I mean truly disconnect from the world, to the point of recycling all the water on the property (I have a plan drawn up for a toilet-to-tap water distillation system) and plating the house with solar cells - nothing would connect me to society and I could live free from the weight of corrupt governments and extractive, exploitative economies. Oh, the dream... the Mrs isn't too fond of the toilet-to-tap idea, though.

In fact, the whole thing is a ludicrous idea. Not because it's impossible or the costs outweigh the benefits, but because when the end of the world actually DOES come, me and a handful of other weirdos would be left drinking our own water and fueling our own stoves. The rest of the world would be clamoring for help because the infrastructure on which they have come to rely would be demolished and they would be left to feed themselves, not knowing that wheat comes from seeds and beef comes from cows.  It would be so sad, but I wouldn't be in a position to help because I would be hundreds of miles away and wouldn't have a car. I probably wouldn't even know the end of the world came because I wouldn't have Facebook.

We all have our callings, and mine is to serve. I can't move away from that, though when times get rough I sometimes want to. As joyful as it would be for me to uninstall myself from the machine, God wants me to be on the ground serving his children and he will cleanse me from this generation if I am faithful. He's not calling Noahs right now (Jonahs still beware), but he is calling Almas to stay where they are and lift where they stand. So that's that. No unplugging for me. Though I do think I'm going to install toilet-to-tap when my wife's not looking.

ps, I unplugged my blog from Facebook today. Let's see if I blog more regularly now.

Lead, Kindly Light

Lead, Kindly Light, amidst th'encircling gloom

This line alone is enough to warm my heart and comfort my weary soul. The full song often brings me to my knees.

Learn the history of the hymn (with renditions of the hymn playing in the background), and listen to a recent performance. Newman, the author of the hymn's profound words, experienced a life full of strife and "providential illnesses," with intermittent emotional and mental breakdowns. This man intimately knows the gloom which the hymn eventually dispels. He has lived through the passage from dark to light, and shares the revelation with us.

Lead, Kindly Light, amidst th'encircling gloom,
Lead Thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home,
Lead Thou me on!
Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene; one step enough for me.

I was not ever thus,
nor prayed that Thou shouldst lead me on;
I loved to choose and see my path;
but now lead Thou me on!
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will. Remember not past years!

So long Thy power hath blest me,
sure it still will lead me on.
O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent,
till the night is gone,
And with the morn those angel faces smile, which I
Have loved long since, and lost awhile!

The Great California Shake OUt

Here it comes again!

Is science the antithesis of faith?

I wrote this essay for a seminar I'm taking on the philosophy of Physical Science.

Is science the antithesis of faith? This question always brings my mind back to the 1997 movie Contact, in which a staunch scientist seeking for extra-terrestrial contact has an out-of-world experience that she can’t “prove” but nonetheless in which she believes completely. This role reversal signifies that science and faith can co-exist, and that the traditionally dichotomous relationship between the two should be re-evaluated by both schools. I’m not saying that Hollywood is the key to bridging the gap between science and faith, but there is some credence to the point the movie attempts to make.

Traditionally, science is conceived as objective, factual and “real.” Western scientific thought has always assumed an “external reality independent of human perceptions” (Brown, p. 369), which has led many scientists – and most of the lay people – to the conclusion that the path of science is one that will eventually reveal all “truth.” This positivistic concept, though methodologically replaced long ago with a more critical approach to the world, still persists in the mind of the masses. I feel that much of the exaggerated debate between science and faith actually pivots around this mentality, rather than methodologies or definitions of either scientific exploration or religious experience.

But what if science is not objective? Scientific philosophy alludes that nothing can ever be proven as true, since an external reality in which the “truth” exists can never be reached by human perceptions. A theory can only be tested against falsification, and if it is not disproved, the theory is upheld until the next round of falsification tests – it is never true, but only not not true. In addition to this “negative nature” of science, the methodologies used to test theories can never be objective because the very fact that a theory is being tested creates a framework and context for the experiment that will influence the results. Inkpen refers to this as “world making” and states that scientists often ignore their world making because it “implies subjectivity in their world view.” (Inkpen, p. 84). He later goes as far as saying that science is not the rigid, fact-finding exploration of reality that most of us accept, but that “scientific thought and its change is strongly influenced, if not determined, by the society within which it exists” (Inkpen, p. 137).

I turn now to faith. Faith can be defined as belief without proof, but this is an overly simplistic view that begs for scientific scrutiny. However, criticizing the notion that faith is a "blind belief" belies the fact that faith and science share a common element: the inability to prove truth. Both science and faith espouse the assumption of unquestioned principles and the acceptance of a certain level of uncertainty. Viewing science and faith as dichotomous only illustrates a misunderstanding of the relationship between the two. Science claims a basis in proof, and some claim that faith can prove nothing (Comrie, p. 37). However, proof cannot be limited to things that are readily observable, as human observation is framed in social context and personal experience. In this sense, science can prove nothing either. According to one definition of faith in the New Testament, it is the "substance [basis or assurance] of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." (Hebrews 11:1). Is not theory an assurance of the hoped-for result of the scientific method? Are not data the evidence of phenomena which exist in a reality that in its purest form cannot be seen? A close examination of science and faith, in an atmosphere free of traditional debate, shows common ground at a fundamental level. The most divergent elements between the two may possibly be merely the terminology and constituents.

In light of the above arguments, I claim that science is not the antithesis of faith. Both require an acceptance of things not seen; both result in a near-complete belief in a reality that cannot logically be proven. Science views empirical data from observations as paramount; faith places personal experience of confirmation above all. In a way, science and faith can work together to make the world a better place – or perhaps they already do.