If it is our aim to remain fully human with our feet firmly planted in reality, then we will need to actually translate our ideas into tangible actions. From our individual actions we do not need to expect sweeping societal change, but we have to start somewhere. Fasting from the virtual while feasting on simple, anachronisitc actions is a tangible beginning. We also believe that there is a fundamental power of face-to-face conversation around a kitchen table. One of the most earth-shattering changes in history did not come to pass through political action, institutional change, or mass demonstrations; it was preceded by a meal around a dinner table, sharing bread and wine.
The Gaskovskis have written before about what they call practicing acts of anachronism, which I have kept meaning to come back around to. I love the phrase, partly because when I read the original post I mistakenly read the entire thing as “small acts of anarchism,” which is just as good a phrase as far as I’m concerned.
“It was one of the small anachronisms that resisted the unbearably fast pace of life,” Ruth writes of simply walking to the grocery store with their small children and loading up a hiking backpack with groceries instead of driving, “and prompted many a driver who zoomed past to take note and wonder: Why would anyone choose to do something so slow and effortful?”
Why? Because “in an age where technology has wholly reformed our imagination, visible models of anachronism serve an essential role in reminding us that slowness and effort make us more human.”
That’s about as straightforward and essential as you can put it.
(It reminds me of a surgeon I used to work with who was in a pick-up basketball league where, of course, everyone tried to make their team names as creative as possible. His team went with “We May Be Small But We’re Slow.”)