Active Listener

It’s easy to dissociate these days and fall into a passive state of nihilism. The world doesn’t seem to have its pieces together, and we’re left to the mercy of the news cycle, reporting on a train wreck that got trapped on the rollercoaster. When you get the chance to delegate the mindful work you had, you’ll find yourself not knowing what to do with yourself. Can’t it just be me? I’ve been in tech for a long time, and I’ve gone through burnout before, but there’s something different this time around. I tried to scapegoat AI, but that ain’t really it. AI just took away the deep-focus grind work I used to hide in. And when there’s no way to hide, the algorithmic doomscroll is always there to supply the next dopamine hit. I needed out, but not like that.

I recently got a chance to revisit my vinyl collection . As I entered each album, cross-checked the press with Discogs, and impulsively added new records to my stack, I felt the urge to start listening—really listening. I play records all the time, but I’ve never taken the time to give them my full, undivided attention. It turned out I had never really listened to some of those records. The catchy hit I heard on the radio growing up was nothing but a supporting character in a tragic story. Being mindful allowed me to experience the art with the intent of the creator. I was no longer rushing to hide in the next coding grind or the next mindless scroll to avoid feeling exposed.

Makes me wonder how much I’ve been missing, hiding in the grind. Is active listening just my new hiding place? Hiding fills the void. Escaping asks you to bring yourself along.