Too Much Information

It's a Shame you Live With So Much Information

I was pregnant with my second child 25 years ago at the tender age of 38. While waiting for my doctor, who was like a God to me, I snuck a peak at my chart; “AMA”, advanced maternal age. What did that mean? Was it life threatening? Did it cause birth defects? Due to my condition the doctor recommended an amniocentesis. He said, “The procedure involves some risk, but we will get more information. Then you can decide what to do.” I agreed. It appeared to be standard operating procedure.

The results came back that my baby, whom I knew to be a girl, a soon to be sister to my son, had a high probability of being born with down syndrome. There are no appropriate words to effectively articulate the numbness that took over my body. I was in shock. Perhaps this is a natural survival mechanism, because the numbness creates an inability to react, in any way. I was frozen, dumbstruck. I was 20 weeks along, more than halfway to welcoming new life into my family.

I will never forget my mother’s initial reaction. At first it stunned me, it felt cold and detached. She said, “It is a shame you live with so much information.” What the hell did that mean? Information is good, information is power. Information is everything.

Emily Markham Cahill was born approximately 19 weeks later, healthy, pink, and perfect. Had I been robbed of enjoying the journey of her coming to be, as my mother had critically and succinctly summarized? The remainder of my pregnancy had been wrought with anxiety; had it been necessary? Thank the good Lord I did not change course due to the ‘information’ I had received. God bless my husband, whom upon receiving the ‘diagnoses said, “Information is good, it all depends on what one does with it.” We decided that regardless of the potential outcome, we were going forward with the pregnancy. Life is just that-LIFE. It is not always perfect as conventionally defined. Nor is it neat or always picture-perfect pretty. What message would we have been sending our young son, if we did not follow through with the birth of his sister because she might not be ‘perfect’...

That was 1996.Fast forward to 2022

My mother’s words resonate. “It is a shame you live with so much information.” If only she knew....

When we wake up in the morning we have an app that tells us how well we slept, which usually is not well. We then might embark on a workout armed with workout apps, fitness trackers and Instagram videos of perfection, another area where we will just not meet the mustard. Gotta love the Peloton digital workout that tells you to be your best while posting 32,000 riders who are ahead of you. Get yourself dressed and glance at the perfection of every air brushed celebrity on Facebook and Instagram as they start their perfect day. Check out all the glam people heading to an exotic Island before you get on the subway or the bus for work. Is this empowering? Witness firsthand all your friends living their best lives, dressed to the nines with exotic drinks in hand. Does this ‘information’ rob you of your very own personal life experience that is probably good if not great? Does it distract you from what your true focus should be which is being your best self-compared to ...NOBODY!!

Enter the ‘news’. Panic Porn. If your own personal expectations as now defined by 32,000 others don’t bury you, panic porn will. The world is ending. Wear a mask or die, or worse yet, kill someone’s grandmother. Nuclear attack is eminent. Financial collapse is here. If you are white, black, pink, male, or human, you are evil, vindictive and have destroyed the planet for future generations.

We have become human robots. No longer do we stroll down a street inhaling the scent of Spring while taking in the surrounding natural beauty. No longer can our minds wander and dream of the infinite possibilities that life offers. Information is delivered in sound bites. The ping ping ping of a text instantly calls for attention. Attention deficit has overtaken our personalities and our critical thinking skills. We have become obsessed with staring down at our phones instead of looking directly at the life around us. FOMO, “fear of missing out” has become a condition of terror! Missing out on what? Someone else’s day? Their outfit? Their trip? We snap more pictures of ourselves doing nothing than we do of others accomplishing something.

We have come to challenge reality if it is different than expressed on our apps. If it is raining and the iPhone showed a sunny day, we are confused. Driving under cloudy skies to the beach one day, my husband asked me to check my phone for the weather. I looked up at the sky. “It is cloudy”. “But the iPhone said it would be sunny all day.”, he remarked,“check your phone.” “Mike, I just checked the sky.” He looked confused. No longer do we look out our window to view the kind of day that mother nature has sent.

Have we set ourselves up for consistent failure? Do we have unrealistic standards and expectations for how to conduct and lead our lives? Evolution has programmed our natural survival instincts to be wary of potential dangers around the corner. Has technology put the final nail in the coffin of the present?

Too much information? “Mom any thoughts”