accidents, interruptions, and serendipitous encounters (erin jean warde)

“We still recognize that much of what gives one’s life meaning stems from accidents, interruptions, and serendipitous encounters..." -Jenny Odell

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inspiration

“We still recognize that much of what gives one’s life meaning stems from accidents, interruptions, and serendipitous encounters: the ‘off time’ that a mechanistic view of experience seeks to eliminate.”
—from Jenny Odell’s How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy*

contemplation

Within the first few sentences of Odells book — my pick for book club starting this week! — I was hooked. You see, my spirituality is built upon a deep belief in the magic of what happens in these accidents, interruptions, and serendipitous encounters. I haven’t been able to ignore them in my own life, nor am I willing to overlook how so much of the gospel I hold sacred reveals Jesus walking through the crowds and, when interrupted, bestowing blessing. I believe the gospels show us that these accidents, interruptions, and serendipitous encounters aren’t just worthy of our attention, but of our worship.

What, then, does it say about me, when I am so shielded from the possibility of interruption? I’ve been trying to work on this personally, and by “working on it” I mean I’m doing something so simple it feels silly to mention: when I’m walking around, I try not to have my phone out. The worst part is when I grocery shop, because my shopping list is there, but listen I am TRYING.

For instance, when I go to the mail room — a short walk from my apartment — I do not take my phone at all. I have caught myself reaching for it moments after shutting the front door, which calls me to remember why this short walk is so important. Sometimes, I don’t see anyone, but I notice how people have decorated their apartment patios, or I size up the different cars in the lot (narrowing down my list of which ones I want to test drive), once I saw a cat enthralled in the toy dangling off its cat tree, and the other morning I looked up to see a beautiful shelf on someone’s balcony with a decorative bird that became much more beautiful when it flew off into a nearby tree. When I see people walking past me, I enjoy saying hello, especially to all the dogs. The other day I saw a woman pacing outside, so when I walked back and she still stood outside pacing I asked her if everything was alright. She sighed, saying, “Oh thank you for asking, I am fine, I am just moving today.” To which I replied, “Then you aren’t fine at all!” We laughed and I wished her all the best on her move.

These are not monumental moments, but they are the accidents, interruptions, and serendipitous encounters that remind me I am breathing. I have to imagine there were days when Jesus saw a shadow attached to a tree, only knowing when it took flight that it was, in fact, not a shadow but a bird. I have to imagine there were days when Jesus had casual conversations, laughed at the realities of life, and took his place as both the one pacing and the one wishing God’s creatures all his best. I genuinely cannot conceive of a God who is not terribly invested in these moments, because of how holy they are, how much being stopped dead in our tracks can leave us with a fire burning in our souls, its flame and possibility rivaling that of Pentecost. And oh, how often I miss the chance at that palpable holiness; oh, how my soul longs for a spark while trying to safely distance me from the possibility of flame.

I picked this book because over the past few years I’ve been on a journey of reflecting on my consumption of social media, which has in turn opened me up to a deeper way of wondering how I spend my time. (I’m also convinced all this is connected to my recent burnout.) Sobriety changed everything, in the sense that it brought me into relationship with God and myself, meaning the illumination of the Spirit now feels oddly clear to me in a way it couldn’t before. And the clarity of the Spirit calls me into a better way of living, of how to do nothing, which Odell describes as follows:

… the first half of “doing nothing” is about disengaging from the attention economy; the other half is about reengaging with something else. That “something else” is nothing less than time and space… Ultimately, against the placelessness of an optimized life spent online, I want to argue for a new “placefulness” that yields sensitivity and responsibility to the historical (what happened here) and the ecological (who and what lives, or lived, here).

Yes, I want to find my own way of living that resists the attention economy, that disengages from the “profitable state of anxiety, envy, and distraction,” and I don’t think I’m the only one yearning for it, hence why I thought we could explore it together, as a community.

But regardless of whether you join the book club, I hope you are able to take some time this week to take the shortest walk, maybe even only to get your mail, and when you walk back I hope you see something fake becoming something real, something decorative taking flight.

reflection

Where is the primary focus of your attention?
What feels like the biggest source of distraction in your life?
Is there a small — the shortest walk so to speak! — way you could reconnect to the “placefulness” of your life today?

join book club

Love today’s reflection? Join us as we read How to Do Nothing: Resisting the Attention Economy!* I look forward to exploring so much: rest, what occupies our attention, some insights from my recovery, and more. Book club reflections are weekly for paid subscribers. If you’re interested, subscribe for $7/month, pay annually, or become a founding member. <3

We will spend 8 weeks with this book, covering a chapter per week, including the introduction & conclusion. Here is a quick schedule of reflections you’ll receive if you’re a paid subscriber:

THIS WEEK — Introduction: Surviving Usefulness
Week of September 12 — Chapter 1: The Case for Nothing
Week of September 19 — Chapter 2: The Impossibility of Retreat
Week of September 26 — Chapter 3: Anatomy of a Refusal
Week of October 3 — Chapter 4: Exercises in Attention
Week of October 10 — Chapter 5: Ecology of Strangers
Week of October 17 — Chapter 6: Restoring the Grounds for Thought
Week of October 24 — Conclusion: Manifest Dismantling

discerning sobriety course — now via e-mail!

I moved my course — Discerning Sobriety — over to an email format, to try to better support participants. This format puts content directly into your inbox! You will receive one email every day for 40 days, leading you through a process of connecting with your mind, body, and soul, as you explore your relationship with alcohol. The journey includes 20 lessons and 20 spiritual practices. Sign up to take the course now!

coaching & spiritual direction

If you’re looking for 1:1 support, I’m available to welcome new coaching clients and hold space as a spiritual director. Reach out with any questions. <3

fun & links

〰 pre-order my book—SOBER SPIRITUALITY—today!* 🤩
〰 curious about some of my favorite books? check out my growing list of suggested books over at Bookshop here* 📚
〰 drink some pumpkin spice cold brew with me 🎃