Our crowded tour bus was buzzing with excitement, full of dozens of over-caffeinated high school students. We were seven days into traveling Greece, and had each been furiously and devotedly capturing the essence of every place we visited with our digital cameras and cellphones. We had visited ancient ruins on the mainland, ridden donkeys up the island of Santorini, visited the stone towers of Rhodes, and had even been enticed by charming rug salesmen in Turkey. Greece had us entranced, and we were about to hit the main event, the big photo op: that cool, clear morning, we were traveling up the hill of Athens to visit the Parthenon.
We caught our first glimpse of the site about ten minutes into our drive up the hill. As I tried to snap a picture of the temple, my worst nightmare was realized: the screen of my clunky silver camera went black, and it retracted its lens. I’m pretty sure lightning struck somewhere, and the gods probably wailed in anguish. My camera was dead.
I was sure that I had been cursed, it was just my luck. Though my friends reassured me that they would share their pictures with me, I was still devastated, because they wouldn’t be my own. How was I going to remember this moment now? God forbid I have to trust my own eyes to capture this.
Our bus reached the landing, and we proceeded the climb up the numerous large, white marble steps. When we reached the top, I gazed in awe: the withered, ivory columns stood strong and tall, even bigger than I had imagined. My eyes filled with tears as I reflected on the centuries of human history that this monument had endured.
While the people around me were staring through lenses and at camera screens, I had nothing to look at but the masterpiece. I realize now that if my camera had been working, I would have been so caught up in taking pictures that I never would have been able to appreciate the wonder of the sight.
There’s nothing wrong with taking pictures of pretty things. With social media, we get to share those things with the people that we love. But what happens when we get so obsessed with capturing our lives that it gets in the way of us living them?
I don’t think I’m too far off when I say that society has a bit of an issue with the obsession of capturing our lives and oversharing on social media, myself included. I am active on Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and several other social media sites.
This isn't just a problem with millennial generation by the way, adults have been bitten by the bug too. We are all captivated by it. I mean, it makes total sense—getting to see what our friends are up to, and participating in the constant post and comment dialogue is entertaining and enriching. It makes us feel connected. Not only that, but we are constantly fed information, news, funny cat videos. It’s exciting. It keeps us in the know.
But we can’t let social media become the main source of human experience and connection.
And this happens quite a bit. I can’t count the times that I’ve been at a dinner table surrounded by friends, who are all staring at their phones rather than talking. I’m guilty of it too. It’s a problem.
There’s something we can do to remedy this, and it starts with changing our behavior. Stop prioritizing your phone friends over the people who are in front of you. Make a point to intentionally leave your phone at home or in the car when you’re out with people. Forget Snapchat, and dance like a dork to your favorite song by yourself, just because you can. Take in the sunset instead of snapping a picture. Commit to living in the actual physical moment, and you’ll gain a lot more.