In 40 years when I’m looking through my albums, I don’t want to only remember the spectacular, beautiful days. I want to remember my life. My unadulterated, un-photoshopped, unfiltered life

T

he Chofetz Chaim said that the first sound recording device was invented so the generation would better understand the teaching that all our deeds are marked in a book. So does the ubiquity of digital video and voice recorders mean our generation needs that message made even plainer?

The smartphone culture instills in us a need to document everything in our lives. Every event, no matter how big or small — every outfit, three-dollar coffee, cute face our kid makes — needs to be captured. We’re ready to pose on cue, we’re “on” at every moment, and we frame our lives through the five-inch screen.

Here’s the reality: our lives are mostly mediocre. Most days I look okay. Not like I just rolled out of bed, but not glowing either. Most of the time my kids look fine. Not adorable or gorgeous, just fine (sorry, kids). Most of their clothes are from Target, not the trendy boutique store. We’re usually having a fine time. We’re laughing and crying and kvetching, I’m kissing and yelling and telling them to go away so I can drink my coffee in peace.

But I’d never share a picture of me in a snood and dirty skirt along with my child and her runny nose. I’ll wait until we’re on our way to a wedding. No point in me taking a picture of my child sipping water from a plastic cup, but you can be sure the berry smoothie gets a snap. But in 40 years when I’m looking through my albums, I don’t want to only remember the spectacular, beautiful days. I want to remember my life. My unadulterated, un-photoshopped, unfiltered life.

There are times when we literally produce a fictional narrative of an actual event by carefully choosing which shots to take. There are times we miss an episode completely because we’re so caught up in the need for the picture. There are times we’re flat-out mean and bossy and manipulative while begging, bribing, and barking at those around us to “come here under this tree where the lighting is good and just smile normally already!”

By the time a child is five, she usually has her duck lips perfected. By the time that child is 12, she knows which is her best side. And by the time high school comes, she knows how to bend her knee, put her hand on her hip, and tilt her head just so — after all, she’s been modeling for photo shoots since she was born.

What are the effects of our picture-taking obsession? When “selfie” is the word of the year, as it was back in 2013, what does that say about our emphasis on appearances?